Harry Potter and the Ancestral Legacy
by Clavyus
Summary: This is a post-war, ewe fic beginning the day after the last battle. A legacy from Harry's ancestors may be the key to magic's survival in the twenty-first century and beyond. This will be mostly character-driven, with a little adventure and combat. Pairings will become clear as the story moves along.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is a post-war, ewe fic beginning the day after the last battle. A legacy from Harry's ancestors may be the key to magic's survival in the twenty-first century and beyond. This will be mostly character-driven, with a little adventure and combat. Pairings will become clear as the story moves along, and I'll just be mysterious about it for a bit. I owe nothing related to Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

 **Gryffindor Tower**

Pain. He is used to bad headaches, and this one seems as bad as it gets. Instead of centering at his scar, this one seems to be radiating from somewhere deep inside his head. Cautiously, he opens his eyes and reaches for his glasses. It's daytime. He can't seem to focus, everything seems blurry. With or without his glasses. He grabs his wand from under his pillow and casts silently the clock charm. Nothing happens. He repeats the motion and speaks carefully the incantation. " _Tempus_ ". The wand feels hot, and a bit of smoke comes out of the end. When he tries again, the wand feels dead, like a stick of wood. He gets up slowly, cradling his pulsating head as he moves. He leaves his glasses on the bed. He can see better without the glasses. He opens his trunk and grabs the two wands he had left inside the previous night. One is the brother to his own wand. It feels dead in his hand too. The other is the Elder wand, the Deathstick. That one feels alive and thrumming with power. It seems eager, like an overactive puppy. Harry casts " _Lumos_ ", pushing as little magic as he can. Instead of a soft light at the tip of the wand, he gets a bright flash and a crash. He startles, and checks around. One of the legs of his bed has been reduced to splinters.

"Blimey!". Harry's head begins to throb, as swimming black dots get added to his blurry vision. By touch, Harry finds some clean underwear and robes. He'd burned yesterday's clothes, after a long warm shower, the first since Shell Cottage and sleeps in his underwear. He stops by the bathroom, and after doing whatever he can, without magic or proper sight. Harry heads out, trusting his memory and squinting a lot, headed for the Hospital Wing. He's very hungry, but the headache and, worse, his malfunctioning magic, makes a visit to the healer his first priority. He was planning to get rid of the Elder wand, as it sounds like a potential source of both attention and trouble. But he is not about to get rid of his only functioning focus.

It's a fifteen minute walk, across the broken down castle. The castle smells of barbecued giant, rock dust and blood. Harry sees a few indistinct people from a distance, but nobody comes near, or speaks to him. In his mind, he replays both his duels with Riddle. He can't believe the unmitigated luck that sees him still alive this morning. It feels like a dream. He can't yet feel any relief of finally getting past the monster, his soul shards and the stupid profecy. He can't possibly be walking these corridors, looking for relief for a stupid headache. And he feels utter pointlessness of all that death. Fred, Remus and Tonks, Colin, Cedric, Sirius, Dobby, Alastor, Snape and Dumbledore... Tonks. He can't imagine living in a world without Bubblegum. He is not really sure he wants to. All because an unreasonably powerful coward was mistreated as a child and was terrified of death. Death. He died, yet he lives. The stupid snakeface monster doesn't. So many others just died. He wonders where Ron and Hermione are.

 **Edge of the Forbidden Forest**

Ten days on his bed in the Hospital Wing, so his magic would recover and settle down a bit. A few visitors: Andromeda and his godson a few times, Hermione every day and Fleur and Neville, once. The Weasleys didn't show, as they retreated to the Burrow to mourn. No sign of Luna, which worries Harry a little. Without the horcrux, Harry's mind seems clearer, and his emotions less intense. Also, he can sense magic, and meditation and occlumency training finally seem to work for him. He's still forbidden to cast spells for another few days.

Morning sees Harry and Hermione are walking into the forbidden forest. Hermione has her wand out, expecting trouble. About a hundred yards into the trees, Harry stops.

"You are supposed to be in bed, Harry. What are we doing here, again?"

"I made a little mistake, which I'm trying to fix." Harry looks at the ground, doing a little search. "Cast 'Accio ressurection stone', please." Hermione does it, with no success. "Hm."

Harry closes his eyes and tries to feel the magic around. Hermione is a big source, and he can feel his own subdued aura. Broadening his focus, he doesn't feel anything at first. He walks about, trying to widen his perception when he feels a little knot of magic some thirty feet away. He walks in the direction of the disturbance, until he sees the little black stone lying on the ground. Harry picks it up and puts it in his pocket.

Hermione is impressed by his use of magesense. "Looks useful."

"It is. But you can also use a "revelio" charm, which is probably more effective."

Hermione waves her wand a bit." _Magium_ _Revelio"_ Their wands, the DA galleon each one has in his pocket and a charmed bracelet Hermione uses, all glow faintly. No glow surrounds the stone.

Hermione smiles. "Nope."

They walk slowly back to the castle entrance. "I'm still waiting for Death to show up and ask me: 'What can I do for you, Great Master Harry Potter Sir?'"

Hermione giggles. A rare sound Harry truly cherishes. "Prat."

Harry continues, in a booming voice. "Just bring me Nymphadora back. And keep the werewolf."

"And what exactly were you planning to do with undead Tonks?"

"Diapers."

Hermione guffaws, and then gives him a sideways look. She knew about his old crush on the auror, "Right. Did you change any diapers?"

"One. Not looking forward to the next one." Harry smiles at Hermione. "Andromeda is scary."

"We all need a little scary in our lives." She is thinking of her parents. "Besides, you're such a wonderful house-elf."

"Hm. I was well-trained." Harry walks a little slower, clearly getting tired. He leans a bit on Hermione's shoulder.

"You can actually call up the dead with that thing?"

"Yup."

"Magic. The wonders never cease."

"I know!" I'm amazed how the purebloods don't seem to get it. They are so used to the impossible that it doesn't make an impression anymore." Harry thinks of Mr Weasley.

"Muggles tend to forget how TV's, cars, microwave ovens, airplanes and computers are kinda miraculous too. Familiarity destroys wonder."

"You know I agree." Harry makes a short pause. "I'm completely at a loss about what to do with my life, you know. But here is a promise I'll make to myself. Never stop looking for wonder in magic."

"Well put, Seeker. Count me in."

"You got it." Harry makes a long pause. "You know Andromeda's late husband was a solicitor, both muggle and magical. I'm putting old his firm: Biddle, Trainer and Ash on retainer."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm writing a will. Teddy will be Black heir. You will be Potter heir."

She purses her lips. "Why would you do that?"

"I'd blood adopt you into the House of Potter, if you want. It's not one of the sacred twenty-eight but it is pretty old and respected."

"No thank you. I thought blood adoptions were illegal."

"No. Just discouraged. But for a traditional family, with just one poor skinny little branchlet left, it is actually encouraged."

"No, thanks. No blood magic rituals for yours truly. I like who I am. You didn't answer my question, though."

"Well, I'm just thinking about avoiding the two wives thing and, at the same time, do my duty to preserve Black and Potter family magic."

"Why would you want to avoid the two wives thing? I wouldn't mind two husbands."

"You kinda have experience with that, don't you?"

"Let the two fools talk about quiddich while I read? What's not to like?"

Harry envisions a Hermione sandwich, with two strapping men inside her, and her screaming in pleasure. His tiny smile betrays the direction of his thoughts. Hermione knows what lascivious looks like in Harry's face.

"Pig."

"Just a teenager. Hormones and all, you know. Besides your mind went there too, pervy." Hermione just sighs and keeps walking. If only the thought of doing it with him didn't give her the creeps...

"Anyways, quiet is not how I envision living with two wives." The dry comment is received with a chuckle.

"I like this new Harry." She can see the same brave, kind and loyal soul looking out into the world from his green eyes. Even the dry, self-effacing wit was always there. But the clarity of emotion and thought? That's new. And a joy to be around. The old Harry would be a broken down ruin at this point.

The young wizard smiles to himself. In truth, and despite all the post-battle heartache, he feels a lot more confortable inside his own skin. "Thanks, Bookworm."

"You're welcome."

The pair leaves the wards, the young witch helping her weakened friend along. They turn around and stare at the castle, both lost in thought for a moment. The damage from the battle is still evident from this distance. Harry takes a metal ring from his pocket. They both hold onto it as he says: " _Portus._ "

 **The Savoy**

Harry and Hermione tumble down, sprawling in a tangle of limbs on the floor. They look around, seeing a featureless room, with a tidy muggle-dressed redhead in her thirties looking amused at them. Hermione quickly gets up, and helps Harry to his feet. The redhead extends her hand for a handshake. "Welcome to the Savoy, Mr. Potter." She turns to Hermione. "You must be..."

Hermione quickly extends her hand for a handshake as well. "Hermione Granger".

The redhead witch nods and makes a note. "My name is Amanda Knox, and I'm the magical concierge at the Savoy." She looks at Hermione and smirks. Hermione smirks right back. "You can count on our utmost discretion. I have you staying for one week, in one of our Royalty Suites. The only staff allowed in your suite are magically aware muggles, squibs or magic users, but outside your room, and except for the specifically designated magical sites around the hotel, the full force of the Statute of Secrecy is in effect. The rooms are protected, but you will have to cover any spell damage. The room wards are blood-keyed, and your house-elves are able to apparate in or out at will. I understand your house-elf has already brought your luggage to your room. How long are you staying with us, Ms. Granger?''

"Just one night."

"Very well. Any questions?"

Harry and Hermione exchange a look. "Not at this time."

"Follow me, then. I'll take you to your suite."

Hermione is lying on the gigantic canopy bed, belly down, wearing a fluffy white robe, with a fluffy white towel wrapped around her head. She has her ankles crossed in the air, her chin on a fist and her wand in the air, conjuring large, colored soap bubbles in weird shapes out of the tip of her wand. Harry is sitting crosslegged on the floor a few feet away from the bed, wearing exercise shorts and nothing else, and holding a straw. He is shooting down Hermione's bubbles with spitballs.

"So, Potter. How rich are you?"

Harry smiles at her. "Very, I guess."

"And what are you going to do with all that money?"

"I don't know. Spend it? I could buy you an island. Maybe Sicily."

Hermione laughs. She is named after the beautiful and virtous Queen Hermione of Sicily, a character in one of Shakespeare's plays. "That would certainly please my parents."

After a few bubbles, Hermione speaks again. "I almost forgot. I stopped by the Burrow. They are still pretty much in shock."

Harry frowns. "How's George?"

"Hasn't spoken since. I worry about him."

"Me too. He lost half of himself." Harry gets up and lies next to Hermione. She turns belly up and grabs his hand. "I can't even begin to imagine. The closest I can come is thinking of losing you." Both Harry and Hermione shudder.

"I went to check the Rookery. It's a half-burned ruin, Harry. There was nobody there."

"Damn."

"First thing, Harry. Get a wand, then find Luna."

"You think Xenophillius..."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. It looked like a death eater attack."

"Well, at least I know she survived the battle."

Hermione recalls the little blonde dodging curses and firing her own. "She added at least a couple of notches to her wand."

"Merlin! That would be the first time she kills."

"By the way, they are holding off Fred's burial until you're cleared to go."

"I know. Mrs. Weasley sent me an owl. Remus and Tonks burial is being held off too. I'm free next Monday. Then it's St. Mungos to get checked, Ollivanders for a new wand and Luna. I have to be at the Burrow for sunset and at Andromeda's the next morning. I'm going to miss you. A lot."

"I'll be thinking of you."

"Ditto."

"What's next, Seeker?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still doing it one day at a time."

"I'm going back to Hogwarts."

"Not exactly a surprise."

"I wish you'd come too."

"Give me some time. Right now, I don't want to go back. Too many memories."

They sleep spooning, Hermione's back to Harry's front. For the first time is a few days, there are no nightmares. They say their goodbyes after breakfast, and Hermione is off to Australia. Harry spends the day reading, meditating and arranging his mind's castle. Reluctantly, he goes for it. He sits in lotus in the center of his bed, and places the ressurection stone in front of him, a few feet away. He pushes a bit of magic into the stone and calls out "Nymphadora Lupin". The magic of the stone feels tainted, disgusting. In a few seconds, a shimmering likeness of Nym, in full auror robes, appears on top of the stone.

"Wotcher, Harry." She shivers and looks down. "This thing is awful. I know why you're calling. Please, let's make it fast. I have something important to tell you."

"All right. First things first. What do you want me to do?"

"Love him, protect him and tell him every day about his awesome mother."

"I'll make sure he knows everything about his parents."

Nymphadora looks down. "About that..."

"What?"

"Well... he is yours."

The world seems to stop at a knut. "What? What do you mean, mine?" Nymphadora is still looking down. "I think I would remember if... Did you obliviate me?"

"A memory block. Undercover aurors use them often. It's easier to revert."

"Bloody hell! Why?" Despite his confusion, Harry feels a dark knot of worry unwinding, and a great deal of anger he was holding towards Remus dissipate a little. Lycanthropy can be sexually transmitted, and Harry couldn't countenance Remus risking it with Tonks and the baby.

"It's complicated. Have the block removed and you'll get it. Let me just say it was you who asked for the memory block. And Remus agreed with it."

"I see." Harry sighs. "How do you get this block removed?"

"Any mind healer can do it. Hermione can do it too."

Harry sees the pain from the stone in Nymphadora's face. "All right, Bubblegum. Bye."

"Wait." She smiles. "I'll be waiting for you. In a hundred years or more. Also, about the battle. I'm sorry. I couldn't stay away. I can't even regret it. I saved at least a dozen lives that day. I know you're mad."

"I'd have stunned you, bound you and taken your wand."

She laughs. "You'd have tried. Remus did."

"I'd have succeeded."

"Perhaps. I have no regrets, Harry. Neither does Remus." She smiles, despite the pain. "I'm glad I was your first."

Harry squirms a bit. "I'm sure I'll be too, when I can remember it." a small pause. "I miss you, Bubblegum. I always will."

"I'll be waiting for you, my hero. Love our Teddy, and keep an eye on Mom too. And don't use this foul thing again unless you really need it. I love you. Bye."

Those three words shock Harry more than the paternity thing. "I love you too. Bye."

There's a small flash of light, and Nym disappears. The ressurection stone goes quiecent. It doesn't feel evil or cursed standing there, just dark. Harry figures that human sacrifice was probably involved in the making of it. He speaks to the wall. "Mine..."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

 **The Burrow**

Bill and Fleur apparate outside the wards at the Burrow. It was their first day of work after the battle. A long day, checking and double-checking the wards damaged by the trio's break in, their spectacular escape and the death eater attack the following day. Despite being a bit late, and Bill's protests, they stop at a muggle bakery in London for some baguettes. Fleur doesn't like coming for dinner without bringing something.

As they open the door, Ginny's voice is the first they hear. Raised and irritated. "You're late! What happened?"

Bill sighs and answers calmly. "We had a lot of work, Gin. It went a little late."

Fleur greets Arthur and Charlie, who are deep in conversation about muggle sports. Something neither knows anything about. Percy is talking to Ron about the ministry and George is sitting down staring at nothing. It's George's situation that makes Fleur's heart feel tight. Aside from William, the twins were her favorite Weasleys. She hears Molly's voice trumpeting from the kitchen. "What is this? Bread?" A little silence, presumably as William replies. "William Arthur Weasley! Don't ever bring food into this house, do you hear me? Specially these strange foreign inventions..."

Fleur mutters to herself. "Merde..."

"What is it, Phlegm... I mean, Fleur?" The bright eyes and the smile testify to the little witch's satisfaction at having her sister-in-law ill received."

Fleur can't resist dishing it back a bit. She exagerates her accent. "''ello, Ginevra. ave your 'eard from 'arry?"

Ginny instantly grimaces in anger. "Just call me Ginny. And no, I haven't heard from Harry since I replied to his note last week."

Twist the knife a bit. "Ah! My mozer tells me Gabrielle received a long letter from 'arry yesterday. She was verry 'appy." A baldfaced lie. Gabrielle has a way of monopolizing Harry's attention when they meet. After all, who can resist a scheming twelve-year-old that looks like the most adorable nine-year-old in the world? Certainly not Harry, needy, adorably soft hearted creature that he is. It drives Ginny barmy.

The annoying little Weasley retreats into a sulk. Fleur heads to the kitchen to help the annoying big Weasley set the table. "Can I 'elp, Molly?"

She grimaces as she looks Fleur. "You can grab the plates and set the table, dear. There is nine of us." Like the brainless frenchie cannot count.

As everyone sits to eat, Molly gets on Fleur's case again. "You know? This family really only likes simple English food. None of this fancy continental stuff for us. You should come by sometimes. I'd be glad to teach you."

"Zat is verry nice, Molly. Zank you. I'll try to make space on my calendar."

She twists her face. "You should quit work soon. After all, the babies will come, and you can't break curses with a baby can you? It's too dangerous..."

William finally gets on the act. "Mom..."

Molly turns around, facing Bill. "Well, it's true, isn't it? Besides, you don't need the money. Her family is plenty rich, isn't it? I'm sure they will help."

Fleur gets up, feathers showing up on her neck and arms. "Ah, putain! Zut alors! Je vais te bruler, cochon rouge..." She gets out of the room, banging the door on the way out. Before she leaves, she hears Molly saying, in an innocent tone. "She has a temper, that one. I don't know what possessed..."

A minute later William comes out after her. The feathers are still visible. He embraces her, which calms her a little. "I'm sorry, love."

"Eet is not your fault. You're not the one zat should apologize."

"She is like that, love. Talks without thinking. And she is still grieving too. Please, cut her a little slack. Let's go back to dinner."

Fleur stares at him, a small voice on the back of her mind asking her why she had married this stupid prick. She sees her husband recoil in fear, and, after a moment, her love for him asserts itself. Something snaps inside her. "We are not going back for dinner, William. But I do 'ave somezing to do before we leave."

She walks back inside, a determined look on her face. William walks behind her. "Fleur, love. What are you going..." Fleur grabs George's chair and turns it around, while everyone stops and stares. She sits on his lap, straddling him, and holds his face in both her hands. She looks straight into his eyes and _pushes,_ with the full power of her allure. She sees George's pupils dilate into pools of black and kisses him ungently, sticking her tongue in his mouth. He is slack at first, but very soon he is reacting, getting into the kiss. She then cuts it, raises her hand and gives him a hard slap in the face. His pupils return close to normal. For the first time since the battle, he speaks. "What?"

Fleur now pushes him gently with the allure. Still straddling him, she responds in a sharp tone. "George Weasley! Moping around like zis? What would Fred zink?"

"Sorry?"

"No. Not sorry. Where is zat pretty girlfriend of yours. Ze yummy one with long, long legs?"

"Angelina. I. I. I don't know."

She raises her voice even louder. "Zen go find your Angelina, you stupid donkey! Apologize to 'er. Bury some of zis awful grief right between zose pretty brown legs of 'er." Fleur stands up, grabs George by the front of his shirt and pulls him up from his chair. She gets behind him and pushes his back towards the door. "Go now." He walks forward, past William, opens the door and hesitates, looking back at Fleur. "Just go!"

There is silence for about ten seconds, and then Molly starts screaming. "How dare you..."

Fleur whips out her wand and casts a silent silencio, while saying "Tais tois, cretin." She whips her wand around, and catches Ginny pulling out her wand. She casts a silent stunner, and Ginny goes down. Ron and Percy are still paralized by the allure, whereas Charlie, William and Arthur are all looking at her with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. By then Molly has her wand out, and Charlie whips out his wand and casts somnus at his mother, who then sits back asleep at her chair.

Arthur is the first to react. He walks forward, embraces Fleur in a tender hug. "Thank you, thank you, daughter. We were at the end of our rope with George. He steps back a bit and looks at his wife and daughter. "I'm sure when they calm down they will be thankful too." Fleur doubts that, but shrugs.

"Zat was not a solution. Just a little shock to get 'im out of ze 'ole 'e was in. You 'ave to keep an eye on 'im."

Arthur nods gravelly. Charlie puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. "That was brilliant, sister. Thanks."

She turns to Charlie. "Come outside. I want to talk to you a bit." She grabs William by the hand and pulls him outside, with Charlie following them closely. For the first time in a long time, Fleur feels like herself.

They stop outside, and Fleur turns to Charlie. "Did you guys find ze dragon zat escaped from Gringotts?"

"Yes we did. It was just sticking around in the hills east of Inverness, eating the local sheep. We have it hidden in the forbidden forest for now."

"Did ze goblins ask for its return?"

"Yes. We're going to return it, but we still have to negotiate a contract for our services."

"Ask Ron about ze conditions zat ze Dragon was kept."

"What? Why would Ron..."

"Just ask."

Charlie looks at William, who nods in agreement. Fleur is skirting very close to the loyalty clauses of her employment contract, but apparently she stayed on the safe side of the line. "All right. I will."

Fleur and William say their farewells, walk until they are outside the wards, and apparate to Shell Cottage.

 **The Savoy**

Harry answers the door quickly, as he had been warned by the reception that Andromeda would be coming up. He greets her with a brief hug, and then picks up Teddy from the carriage. The baby snuggles happily in his arm, his magic fitting against Harry just as it should. His son. Harry directs Andromeda to sit on the big leather sofa, while dancing a little jig with Teddy in his arms.

"Slow down, Harry. He's only six weeks old."

"I know. Sorry." He stops playing and holds the infant close to his chest.

Andromeda is quietly happy, as she can see the beginnings of a real bond between Harry and Teddy. "Don't be sorry. You should play with him. You just have to learn his limits." She picks up a small package from her purse and casts a "finite" to expand it. "There's a couple of books in there that you should read. One is an excellent muggle book, called " _What to expect: the first year_ ", which you should read carefully and keep close. The other is called " _Raising your magical child_ ", which covers some basics, but should be taken with a large grain of salt. You know that organized magical knowledge tends to be a hit-or-miss jumble of fact, conjecture, common and uncommon sense, old wives tales and outright lies."

"Thanks. I'll read them both." Harry turns serious. "Look, there's no sugarcoating this, so I'll come right out. I'm his actual father."

Andromeda stiffens at his statement, a hint of anger showing behind the guarded facade. "What?"

"Nym told me."

The pureblood ice masks slips, and Andromeda growls. "And how would she do that? Is my daughter a ghost somewhere?"

Harry waits for a few seconds, and then speaks softly. "Andy."

A near scream. "What?"

"I survived the killing curse, twice. I killed a thousand year old basilisk with a sword at twelve. I dispersed a hundred dementors with a patronus at thirteen. I outflew a dragon at fourteen. I defeated the worst dark lord in a century several times, and I destroyed it utterly at seventeen. Impossible is an everyday thing around me."

Andromeda calms down a bit. "So?"

"Tom Riddle and I had several things in common."

"Who's Tom Riddle?"

"Voldemort. It's obviously an invented name."

"Riddle is not a pureblood name."

"He was the son of Merope Gaunt, a near squib and Tom Riddle, a wealthy muggle. Tom was a half-blood, almost a muggleborn, and muggle-raised."

"You're kidding."

"No."

"Bella would never fight for a half-blood."

"She probably didn't know. Very few death eaters knew."

"How did you know?"

"I know a lot about him. Sometime I'll tell you the whole story of this damned war, if you care to listen. Anyways, Tom Riddle and I were the last living decendents of the Peverells."

"You mean the brothers from the Deathly Hallows? That's a children's tale."

"Well... I ended the war in posession of all three Hallows. The invisibility cloak is a Potter family heirloom. The Elder wand was Grindewald's wand. Both Dumbledore and Voldemort died with it in his hands. It's mine now. The ressurection stone was a Gaunt family treasure, and ended up with me." As he speaks, Harry places the black stone in the floor in front of him.

"This is the ressurection stone."

Andromeda looks at it with a frozen countenance. "Prove it."

"No. Trust me on this. This is a foul object, and it should not be used."

"Have you used it?"

"Twice. Once right before delivering myself to Voldemort during the battle. I called my parents for advice." Harry looks at Andromeda, waiting.

"And the second time you called Nymphadora."

"Yes."

"When?"

"The day before yesterday."

Andromeda looks at the stone hungrily. "Call her again."

"No. She told me never to call her again. This thing tortures the spirit called."

"Then call Ted."

"No. Trust me, Andi. You don't want to do this to your loved ones."

"Please, Harry. Just prove it to me. I need to be sure."

"No."

"Harry, I can't just take your word for it. Please."

Harry's shoulders sag. "Very well, Andi. Once." He looks up. "Winky."

The little elf pops up. "Will you take my son and change his diaper?"

"Right away, Master Harry." She picks up the baby and pops out.

Next, Harry pushes a bit of magic into the stone. "Albus Dumbledore."

The filthy sensation comes in, as the ghostly image of the Headmaster appears over the stone. His face contorted in pain. "Harry, Mrs. Tonks."

"How did I call you?"

Dumbledore looks down and grimaces. "You used the ressurection stone."

"Thank you, Albus." The image disappears.

Andromeda looks at the stone, a look of distaste on her face. "You're right. That thing is foul and should be destroyed." She then looks back at Harry. "Why him?"

Harry's eyes are cold when he replies. "He owes me."

A long silence follows, as Andromeda digests what she learned. Winky pops back with a freshly diapered Teddy. Harry's anger drains slowly, as he picks Teddy up and places him lying down at the center of his bed, while speaking babytalk to him.

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know. There's a memory block."

"So you weren't... an item?"

"As far as I can remember, I'm a virgin."

Andromeda shakes her head. "Why did you call her? Why not Remus? I thought you were close."

Harry sighs. Andromeda's distate when speaking Remus name is plain. "I understand you didn't approve of Remus."

"No."

He nods. "I had a big crush on your daughter. Before they were together. Hell, I think I was in love with her. It wasn't entirely one-sided either. I didn't like it when they got together, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't separate my jealousy from my real misgivings. I hated he risked giving her lycanthropy." Andromeda stares sharply as he proceeds. "I liked him, mind you. He was a good man, smart and kind, and one of the best teachers I've ever had. Also, he was the last close personal connection I had with my parents. But he was a depressive git, a bit of a coward and given to bouts of self-pity. I didn't think he was good enough for her. They were deeply in love, though. Can't deny that."

Andromeda nods. "I didn't know him as well as you did. I felt the same way, though."

"Nym was a bright light in a very dark time and place. After they got together, she didn't shine as bright anymore. So, you may understand why it's her instructions I asked. "

Andromeda nods her head, her grief showing. "We had a very hard time as mother and daughter. Thank goodness Ted always had a way with her."

"She loved you, Andy. She asked me to look after you too."

Andromeda nods. "Changing subjects, Harry. You need to tell me your plans. Where are you going to live? When do you want Teddy to move in with you?"

"Come Tuesday I'm moving to the Black Manor at 12 Grimmauld Place."

Andromeda shudders. "You think that's a good place to raise a child?"

"As it stands, of course not. But it's the only home I have, right now."

"I live in a muggle home, outside Oxford. It's a nice four-bedroom house, with all muggle ammenities, but connected to the floo. You could come live with us."

"Thank you, Andi. I can't say how much I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. For the Summer, and actually for the foreseeable future, I need access to the Black library and to the training room in the basement. Beyond that, there's still death eaters around, that would love another shot at me, or at those I care about. I think the protection of the old wards there is a real necessity. I'd like to reverse the invitation. Wouldn't you come live with us there? "

Her eyes brighten for a second, but only just. "Thank you for the invitation, but I fear I must decline."

Harry is confused by her reaction. A couple of seconds later, he has an inspiration. "I'm not sure Black magic will accept me as head of house, but if it does, I'd be happy to reinstate you to the Black." The smile in Andromeda's face is unmistakable. "You miss Black family magic."

"The moment Grandfather cast me out was the worst moment of my life. It felt like half of what I am was ripped away from me. You have the right idea. I couldn't live in that house without Black magic. But if you give me the Black back, I'll be happy to live with you and Teddy. And I'm pretty sure Black magic will accept you, given Kreacher's behavior."

"It will be another couple of weeks until I try. My healers told me to go slow with the assumption of family magics because of my core instability. We can wait until after that for Teddy to move in. I'll have a nice nursery next to my bedroom furnished before that."

"That will work. Thank you, Harry."

"You're most welcome."

 **12 Grimmauld Place**

Harry stands in front of of the old brownstone, feeling the Muggle glamour and the warding from the outside. The Fidelius is gone. Muggles can't see the house, but everyone else can. The facade looks worn, in need of a coat of painting. After leaving the Savoy a couple of days early, Harry's first stop was to buy wands. Ollivander's was still closed, so Harry went to a custom shop in Knockturn Alley. He got a pair of identical wands, blackthorn with thestral hair core, which were just about perfect. Harry was pleased with the thestral core, as he felt an affinity with the gentle skeletal flying horses ever since he first saw them. Next, he went to St. Mungo's, where he got a clean bill of health, and the recommendation to continue his nutrient potions and to begin a carefully planned physical and magical exercise regime. His next stop was home.

Climbing the steps, Harry feels the rejection of the wards, turning to eager acceptance as his hand touches the doorknob. He opens the door and looks at Walburga Black's painting, still guarding the entrance of the house. He lifts his eyebrows, expecting the old screaming invective. Instead, the portrait frowns at him, and speaks in a soft voice. "Welcome home, grandson."

Puzzled and surprised, Harry touches the painting's frame, feeling the subtle connection between the house and the portrait. "Grandson?"

Lady Black gives him a thin, mysterious smile. "Never mind, mylord. Have you taken up the Black?"

"Not yet, on healer's orders. Soon, though."

The portrait nods. "Make us great again, mylord."

Harry looks straight at Walburga, a serious look on his face. "I will do my best, Lady Black."

Kreacher takes Harry on a tour of the house, from the attic, where many Black family portraits and furniture lay gathering dust, the family rooms on the second floor, the guest quarters and the library on the first floor, the formal rooms, dining, kitchen, study and a small ballroom on the ground floor and the basement, with a large wine collection and the space for a workshop and a large training room. Off to one side of the basement, a hidden door opens when he touches it, revealing the main wardstone, an irregular granite piece, half buried and pulsing with power. Following instructions from a small handwritten booklet, Harry pierces his hand with a knife and places three drops of blood on the stone, saying " _Familiae Domus_ ". He feels the wards connecting with his magic, gaining a certain awareness of the house and its contents. Next Harry places his hand on the stone, pushing a little magic into it. He is not charging the wards, as that would be impossible. He is awakening the wards, and binding them tightly to his magical signature. The wards will be slowly charged from the two leylines that cross under the house. Finally, Harry picks up another small book and a blood quill, and crosses every single name written there.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Next to the master bedroom, there is another large room with its own bathroom, decorated in Slytherin colors and faded Quiddich posters. "This was Regulus room, I assume."

Kreacher stands quietly next to Harry. "Yes, Master."

"We will make it a nursery. Please, open a door between this room and the master bedroom. Do we have appropriate furniture?"

"Yes, Master. This room was the nursery for both Master Sirius and Regulus. Their furniture is in the attic."

"Very well. Paint it a clear color, say, a very light blue. Winky will buy pillows and sheets."

"Very well, master."

Harry uses the house's magic to place protections on the walls of the training room against spell damage. He then starts slowly, with first and second year spells, lumos, wingardium, expelliarmus, summoning and banishing spells, stupefy, petrificus totallis, incarcerous and so on. He repeats the spells many times, getting used to feeling the magic passing through the wand, learning the amount of pushing required by each spell. He changes to elemental summoning, aguamenti, incendio, glacius, nebula and simple transfigurations. Later he goes through the list again, casting silently with minimal wand motion. His new magical sensitivity makes this a lot easier than it was. He makes a few exercises with the elder wand. Other wands are tools. The elder wand, in contrast, feels alive. It adds to the spells, and it wants to be used. As instructed, Harry quits long before he gets tired. But he knows now that his magic is really dangerously enhanced.

The nightmares return at night. The house's magic embraces its young master, attempting to soothe his troubled spirit, with little success.

 **Diagon Alley**

Walking around Diagon Alley, Harry knew it would cause a minor riot if he was recognized. He knew that without his glasses, his scar nearly invisible and in a tight fitting muggle t-shirt and jeans, it was only his messy black mane that would betray him. So, he cast a colouring charm on his hair, making it a deep red, like his mother's. Indeed, for people who don't know him personally, that works just fine, but for others...

She's a tall stunningly pretty brunette, long light brown hair, braided to the middle of her back, pleasant oval face lightly freckled, wearing a muggle dark green skirt below the knee and a white long sleeve blouse. She frowns at him, a pleased smile slowly forming on her face. "Harry?"

He recognizes her instantly. "Penny?" Penelope Clearwater. Clever muggleborn Ravenclaw, Head Girl during his third year and former girlfriend of Percival broomstick-up-his-behind Weasley. "Merlin, you look good!"

"Well, thank you." Her smile brightens a bit more and she checks him out. "And so do you." An unexpected hug, tight and long. "That color looks awful on you, though." Harry laughs a bit. He has a soft spot for the brunette, thinking of her as an older, more outgoing version of his best friend.

"What are you up to?"

Her face closes up with anger. "I'm looking for a job."

Harry's heart sinks. He knows there are no jobs for a muggleborn witch, even one as bright and accomplished as Penny. "Didn't you use to write for the Prophet?"

"I did. I also got caught by snatchers, four months ago, beaten, my wand taken and tossed in the street. I lost my job, and spent the next few months cowering in a house in Coventry, with five other wandless muggleborns. Nearly starved too."

"Crap. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure your life last year was no bed of roses either. Thank you, by the way, for killing the Tosser."

"Not much choice there. For whatever is worth, you're welcome." Harry figures it's about time for lunch. . "Wanna have lunch? I'm inviting."

"Sure! Where do we go?"

"There's a nice little fish and chips place right outside the Leaky Caudron." She seems to hesitate and Harry, with years of Hermione-training figures it right away. "They have some figure-conscious options as well."

"It goes right to my thighs, you know?" Harry snickers. "That will do. Lead the way."

Harry tells her about the last battle, and about Teddy. She's very easy to talk to and, although not very powerful, her magic feels soothing. Eventually, Harry works his way to what he wanted to ask. "So, do you have a wand?"

"No. Ollivander's is closed, and when I asked around, people pointed me at this enchanter's shop that makes custom wands. Two hundred galleons for a wand! I have no money, and my parents are school teachers. I couldn't ask them for it."

After they finish, Harry pays for lunch with his muggle bank card. "I know a solution to your problem. Follow me." Harry walks fast and enters Knockturn Alley. Penny follows him, clearly scared. She must be feeling incredibly helpless without a wand. "C'mon, don't be scared."

"I thought only death eaters went to Knockturn Alley."

"Look, the stores are darker, but everything is legal here, at least on its surface. If you need an old out-of-print book, or exotic potion ingredients, the best bet is some of the stores here. Don't worry."

Harry opens the door to a dirty looking used book bookstore and lets Penny in. He calls out. "Hey, Merry!"

An old, bald man with thick eyebrows and a paunch comes to the front of the store. "Young Potter! Good to see you." He turns to Penny. "And who is the pretty bird? A girlfriend?"

"Merryweather Bainbridge, proud owner of this noble establishment, meet Penelope Clearwater, a dear friend from Hogwarts." Penny pinks nicely and whispers "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bainbridge."

"The pleasure is all mine, pretty lady. You may call me Merry, like this rapscallion here does. No respect for his elders."

"Please, call me Penny."

"Very well. What can I do for you two?"

Harry explains. "Penny here had her wand stolen. I was hoping she could find a replacement in your inventory."

"Ah, I understand." Merry goes to the back of the store and floats a pair of large retangular wooden boxes, each filled with a hundred or more wands. "Pass your hand slowly, about three inches above the wands. See if anything jumps at you."

Penny slowly passes her hand over one of the boxes, and then the other. She frowns, a determined look on her face, and does it again. The second time she stops towards the end of the box and lowers her hand slowly. She grabs a light colored wand and pulls it out, squinting at it with a slight disapproving face.

Harry encourages her. "Well... try it."

" _Lumos"_ A nice bright light shines at the tip of the wand. An involuntary sob escapes Penny's lips.

" _Nox_." The light goes off. Merry extends his hand, and Penny reluctantly gives him the wand. He rolls it around. "White ash and unicorn tail. Nice wand." He looks at Penny with bright eyes.

"So, how good is it?"

"It's not my wand... but it will do. How much?"

"Twenty galleons."

Her face droops, defeated. "I don't have..."

"Ten galleons, you old thief."

Penny mumbles. "But Harry..."

"Eighteen galleons"

"Twelve."

"Harry! I don't..."

"Be quiet, Penny! Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Seventeen."

"Fifteen, and not a knut more!"

"Done."

Both Harry and Merry chuckle, clearly pleased with themselves, as Harry pulls out his bag and counts the gold. Merry places the wand on Harry's hand, who presents it to Penny with a flourish.

"Harry..."

"It's a loan, Penny. All right?"

A lone tear rolls down her face. He is giving her back her magic. "I don't know when I can pay you back."

"No hurry."

She hugs him again. "Thank you, Harry."

"She's a good one, Harry. Don't let her get away." Merry adds as they leave the shop.

The old man's words bother Penny a bit. She hesitates, but decides to ask. "Harry, I'm happy as friends, but you're handsome, easy to talk to and, for the first time in a long while, I feel safe.

Look, specially after what you just did for me, I'd be happy to try for a little more."

Harry stops and looks into her eyes. She is tense, but a shade of a smile floats around her lips. "I'm flattered, Penny. Truly. You're smart, gorgeous and very easy to talk to. But..."

She exhales and relaxes. "Timing. I agree. And thanks." Truth, he is not really attracted to her that way.

"You remind me of Hermione."

"Now, that's flattering. I'm no Gryf, though. No heroics for me."

He smiles. "I see plenty of bravery from where I stand."

His words heal a bit of her she didn't know it was broken. "Thanks." She looks at her own shoes. "Still, I'm just a poor muggleborn with no prospects."

"Don't sell yourself short, Head Girl. Things are going to change, now that the monster is gone."

She laughs, bitterly. "And what do you think is going to change, Harry? The monster is gone, but it is still the same bigoted, small-minded, backwards little society it was before."

"There's one little difference."

"What?"

"Now, we get a say."

"You mean you get a say."

He shrugs. "I'm going to need help." He looks at her, an expectant smile on his lips.

She smiles back. "Oh, all right, Potter. I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 5

 **Diagon Alley**

Harry and Penny stop near the Leaky Caudron. Penny asks. "So, where are you going now?"

"I still have an errand to run around here. Later I'm going to Fred Weasley's funeral. You?"

"I'm going home to sulk." She turns pensive. "I'd like to go to Fred's funeral too. I really liked the twins, and Arthur. Well, I liked Percy too, of course, but he turned out to be such a..." her voice trails away in anger.

Not being a big fan of Percy, Herry tries to help. "A what? A git, a moron, a waste of space?"

Her face contorts with poison. "A bloody turd." Harry actually looks a little shocked.

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you the short version. He asks me to marry him. I say yes. We sleep together. Bliss. Two weeks later, he comes to my place to tell me the engagement is off. He says that marrying a muggleborn will hurt his prospects at the Ministry. Then he says I can still be his mistress, and tries to have his way with me." Penny likes the way Harry's eyes flash when he is furious.

"Fuck. I hope you cursed him."

She laughs. "I left him with a small long-term reminder of my displeasure."

Harry stares at her, his fury slowly draining. Thank Hecate for smart, willful witches. "I'm sorry."

"You did nothing wrong." She waves her wand. "Quite the contrary, in fact."

They walk together for a bit. Penny breaks the silence. "About the funeral..."

Harry interrupts her. "We can go together, if you want. I could use the support. It's going to be... harsh."

"I'd be honored to go with you."

"I have a portkey. Meet around here before six?" Penny lifts her wand to apparate away but Harry interrupts her. An inkling of an idea makes its way into Herry's thoughts. He lifts a hand. "Wait!"

"What?"

"Maybe I could use a little help in my errand. Would you mind coming with me?"

"Sure." Nothing better to do. "What's the errand?"

"I need to go take a look at the office of the Quibbler."

The Quibbler is located right off Diagon Alley, above the Magical Menagerie storefront, acessible through a side door and some ricketty stairs. At the top of the stairs, a tiny foyer and a set of double doors with "The Quibbler" in golden letters, eye level on the right leaf. The door is locked, and Harry can feel some warding as well. As Harry pulls out his wand, he feels the urgent need to urinate.

Penny starts fidgeting. "Harry, I need to go. Now."

"It's just the warding. Stay put."

"No! I have to go!" She turns around and heads for the stairs. Harry grabs her, and puts her over his shoulder. Penny laughs and screams. "Let me go, Harry. This instant! I'm just about to do it..."

Harry empties his mind, bringing out his occlumency shields, and the need fades to the background a bit. Harry holds squirming Penny hard with one hand, as he pulls out his wand.

" _Alohomora._ "

The door handle glows yellow for a bit. Harry holds his wand between his teeth and tries the door handle, getting a nasty shock for his trouble. Penny yelps, getting a share of the shock too. He mumbles to himself. "I hate you Luna Lovegood."

He tries again, careful with the wand motion and pushing more magic into the spell.

" _Alohomora._ "

The handle glows a more intense yellow, and this time there is a audible click. He turns the handle, getting an even nastier shock, and pushes the door. It's stuck.

"Damn."

By now the warding turned into tickling, and Penny is squirming and murmuring "Let me go, let me go you stupid troll..."

"Penny!" She keeps squirming. Harry flashes his aura and talks louder "Penny!"

She quiets a bit. "What?"

"She used colloportus. What's the counterspell?"

She frantically searches her memory. "The counterspell, the counterspell... seventh year, after Christmas... Flitwick standing on top of his desk... Ah! It's Patenos!"

A vague memory of Hermione unlocking something. "Left to right swish and a vertical slash?"

"That's right. Put me down. I can do it."

Harry sets her back down. "Do it!" The tickling is becoming a burning sensation on the skin. She pulls out her wand, does the motion and casts the spell.

" _Patenos._ "

The door rattles but doesn't open. Harry grunts. "Wrong spell?"

She starts wimpering in pain. "No! I'm just not strong enough. Whoever cast this shit is a bloody powerhouse!"

"All right, let me try it." It's really burning now. He does the motion, pushing his magic. " _Patenos_!"

The door slams open, and the burning sensation quiets down.

Harry sets Penny back on her feet. She arranges her clothes and gives Harry a narrowed eye look. "Luna Lovegood, hm? Blonde claw, airy little thing?"

"That's right. Smartest witch in her year, and a tough contest with Ginny to see who's the strongest. Best lateral thinker I've ever met."

Penny looks amused. "Well, kudos to her. One hell of a difficult warding."

"I could have used a bombarda. Just didn't want to make a mess."

"I bet there was a reflective shield in there too, Harry. Try a reducto or a bombarda and you probably get most of the spell reflected right back at your face. This warding would probably get an "EE" as a NEWT project in charms."

The place is a long room, with wooden rafters as the ceiling, about twenty feet across. To one side, an old printing press, and shelves with supplies. To the other, a few desks. It's dark. There are windows to one side, but they ate shuttered. To the back of the room, several closed doors. They walk down and try the closed doors. There are restrooms, a small kitchen and lounge, supply closet and a couple of offices. In one of them, Harry finds what, or better, who he's been looking for.

The smell is awful. There's a cot against a wall, and she is lying on her side, curled in loose fetal position, facing the wall. She is wrapped in tattered school robes, and appears to be clutching her wand. Penny stands at the doorway, while Harry walks in and kneels next to the cot. He touches her shoulder and gently nudges her. "Luna? Are you all right?" The little witch is unresponsive. Harry flares his magic, probing, and he can feel Luna's magic near depletion, trying to keep a failling body from dying. Harry can feel a flickering response as her magic latches onto his. Harry pushes a trickle of magic into the connection, and feels the witch's core respond by brightening up a little. Harry picks her up in a bridal carry. She is too light. An unresponsive little bag of skin and bone, her flickering magic the only sign of life Harry can detect.

"She is alive, but in bad shape. I'm taking her to St. Mungo. Can you lock this place again, maybe ward it a bit, and meet me there?"

Penny looks at Luna's face, gently tucking a lock of matted blond hair behind Luna's ear. "Sure. Off you go, hero."

"Thanks."

 **St. Mungo Hospital**

Penny is directed to the third floor, and, as she climbs the stairs, she sees Harry sitting in a large waiting area, his elbows on his knees and his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"Harry!"

"Hey! She'll be fine." He answers the unspoken question. "Dehydration, mostly, with a touch of malnourishment. They have her sedated and they're doing a muggle thing and are giving her fluids directly into her veins."

"Wow. I never heard of healers using muggle stuff like that." Harry shrugs, although he was surprised as well. "Do you know what happened?"

"I don't, but I suspect. She probably went home after the battle, only to find her place burned down and her father dead. He was her only family and they were very close. She then probably dragged herself to the Quibbler, locked herself and couldn't bring herself to do anything else."

"What about her friends?"

"I'm probably the closest friend she has. People either dismiss her as crazy or are afraid of her."

"What about you?"

"I think she's bloody brilliant, and I don't say it to her nearly enough. With her father gone, she's got absolutely nobody. That's why she gave up, I think."

Penny realizes he is feeling very guilty. "It's not your fault, Harry Potter."

Harry begins to cry. "You know, I keep telling myself that. Maybe someday I'll believe it." He rests his face on her shoulder and cries quietly for a few minutes. She holds him, feeling very out-of-place in comforting a boy she barely knows, but which appears to have suddenly claimed a big place in her heart.

A few minutes later, Harry pulls himself together. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm just glad I could be here for you."

Harry smiles faintly. "Thanks." He recalls the little idea he had. He sits down straight and taps on the seat next to him. She sits. "I have a kind of favor to ask. I'm certainly overstepping, but..."

"Oh, go ahead."

He breathes in and out. "Very well. Would you mind reopening the Quibbler?"

Penny looks at him as if he had lost his mind. "What? What do you mean reopening the Quibbler?"

"It's a magazine, kinda. You used to be a reporter. I figured..."

Penny frowns at him. "I was a junior reporter, Harry. I don't know the first thing about publishing a magazine. Besides, the Quibbler is not yours. It's not up to you whether it runs or not."

Harry shrugs. "I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"What? What did you think?"

"Well... first, you don't need to know everything about publishing. I'm sure there's a list of staff somewhere in the office, and their contacts. They could tell you a lot of what you need to know. Besides, they would probably be relieved to be working again. Second, Luna owns the paper now. She loves it, and I'm almost certain she would agree with letting you run it. Third, you need a job, and this could certainly become one. Fourth, we need some kind of honest public voice in the wizarding world. The Quibbler, despite its odd reputation has been that in the past..."

"All right, Harry. All right. You sold me. I'll get back to the office tomorrow and try to figure out how to do this. There's one thing, though. I'm sure I'll need some money. I won't have access to the journal's vault, but day-to-day expenses must be met. There may even be late wages, and everybody has to eat."

"How much?"

Penny stalls, her mind racing. "I really don't know. Maybe a hundred galleons?"

"Do you have a money pouch?"

"Sure." She pulls a little leather bag from her purse. "Here."

Harry opens his own pouch and waves his wand. Galleons fly from his pouch to Penny's. "That was two hundred galleons. If you need more, just ask me. They said Luna would be awake in a couple of days. I'll run this by her then, and let you know."

Suddenly Penny's eyes are gleaming with excitement. "Very well, Mr. Potter. One question, though."

"What?"

"How about an exclusive interview for the first post-war issue of the Quibbler?"

Harry laughs loudly. "Reporters... " He stops laughing and clears his throat. "You got it, Miss Clearwater. Just let me know when you need me."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Harry and Penny meet at the apparition point behind the Leaky Caudron. He is wearing a black robe over a dark muggle suit, and she is just wearing a chaste midlengh black muggle dress, with two inch heels, and no make up.

He checks her out and smiles, trying to help her relax. "Looking good, Penny. So, you ready?"

"No."

"Just keep breathing. And stay close."

Her shoulders sag a bit, and she rewards him with a thin smile. "When did you get this good?"

"I've always been good. Why do you think Hermione stuck around for seven years?"

"I heard you saved her from a Troll first year."

Harry laughs. "There was that too, I guess."

"So, you make it a habit to save witches?"

"Of course! Are you complaining?"

"Nah. You've saved two for today, unless there was some other lucky one before we met."

"Just you and Luna. So far. It's Ravenclaw day."

She laughs "That's right. Anything may happen at a funeral."

"With my luck, you never know."

 **The Burrow**

There wasn't enough space inside for everyone. People either apparated outside the wards, joining the group who was already there, or came in by floo. Harry and Penny arrived inside the house, using Mr. Weasley's portkey. As it is often the case with the muggle raised, their arrival was less than dignified. They end up in a tangle of limbs in the Burrow's living room.

Penny tries to get up first. "Ouch, Harry, you're sitting on my hair."

Harry gets up and extends Penny a hand. "Sorry." He grimaces. "Morgana's tits! I hate magical travel." He looks around and sees Charlie standing nearby, looking amused. "Hey, man. Where's everybody?"

Charlie was assigned to receive those coming in by floo or portkey. "Hello, Harry. Good to see you..." Charlie suddenly recognizes the woman holding Harry's hand. "Penny?"

Penny walks up, and, without letting go of Harry's hand, goes on tiptoe and gives Charlie a peck on the cheek. Charlie was three years ahead of her at Hogwarts, the mighty Griffindor seeker, and never gave Penny much attention. Afterwards, she met him a couple of times as Percy's girlfriend at family functions. She rather likes the handsome, gruff Weasley. "Hi, Charlie. I'm so sorry." He nods, and she gives him a weak smile. "How are the dragons?"

Charlie gives her an appreciative once-over. "Looking good, Miss Clearwater, like yourself."

Her cheeks pink a bit. "Well, thank you. You're looking good too."

Charlie notices the joined hands, frowning. "So, are you two..."

Harry replies. "Nah." He gives Penny an appreciative smile. "Just strength in numbers."

Charlie shrugs. "I see..."

They head outside. Harry takes in one deep breath, and exhales slowly. This is his first public appearance since the battle, and He's not sure He's ready.

Outside, a large group of people is standing around, talking in small groups. It's a beautiful late spring afternoon, with a soft breeze blowing from the south. People are dressed in dark colors, and the conversation is subdued. When Harry and Penny come out the door the talking seems to stop, and all eyes focus straight on them. Ron is the first to react.

"Harry!" Ron approaches at a rush. He's wearing frayed dark robes and muddy boots. Harry feels a little dizzy, his heightened magical sense reacting to the sudden presence and attention of fifty or more witches and wizards. He grabs Penny by the waist and pulls her close, to steady himself, and slams his occlumency shield.

"Hey, Ron. Sorry for disappearing, mate." It comes out colder than he intends. Penny feels his unsteadiness and puts her own arm across his waist.

Ron looks nervous. "It's fine..." He recognizes Harry's companion. "Penny?"

"Hi, Ronald. I'm sorry..."

Before Ron has time to react, Ginny approaches. She has her long hair tied in a ponytail, light make up and a well-cut dark robe, that highlights her nice figure. "Harry Potter! Where have you been? I've been looking for you..."

Harry lets go of Penny and lifts both his palms, trying to slow her down. "Calm down, Gin. I'm fine now. I was just recovering from... you know. Healer's orders."

She places her left fist on her hip and points a right hand finger at him. She raises her voice, with a little screech that resembles her mother's "And why didn't you owl? Or send a message? Or anything? I worry, you know?"

Harry look at Ron, who is still looking at Penny, trying to figure out what to say. "I wrote Ron a message. I told him to say hi."

Now both fists go into her hips. "And that is any way to treat me?" Her eyes finally register my companion. "Penny?"

Harry grabs Penny's hand again. She looks at Ginny, and Harry can see she is smothering a giggle. "Hello, Ginevra. You're looking beautiful." She makes a brief pause. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Ginny looks at Penny as if she had just dropped down from the moon. Her eyes follow down and notice our hands. She flushes deeply. "What..."

Ron finally gets his mouth working again. He speaks softly. "What are you doing?" Before he can reply, Harry notices both Molly and Percy making their way towards them. Percy looks furious, and Molly just looks intense. Harry looks around, finding George leaning against a tree by himself. Harry turns to Molly, as he raises his voice a little, and pushes a bit of magic out.

A little silence follows, where everyone stops for a moment. Harry starts towards George, dragging Penny with him. "Let us talk with George for a bit." Ron, Ginny, Molly and Percy follow them with their eyes as they walk away.

George raises his eyes and sees Harry as he approaches. Without hesitation, Harry opens his arms and gives the taller redhead a tight hug. George stiffens at first, but then relaxes. Harry lets go, and then it's Penny's turn to give him a hug. "I'm so sorry, George, dear."

George smiles faintly. "It's good to see you, Parry and Henny." He looks at them for a bit, and then lifts his eyes, noticing the angry looks from Percy and Ginny. "Are you two together? If you are, good show, both of you. Excellent taste."

Harry draws his wand and casts in a whisper " _muffliato_ ", a Snape-invented privacy spell. "It's just a little prank, Gred. We're just friends."

George stiffens up, making an angry face. "And you decided to prank my family at my brother's funeral?"

Penny looks abashed, but Harry knows better. He answers in a soft tone. "Yes..."

George's eyes fill with tears, and he embraces both of them. "Thank you, thank you. Junior marauder. I should have known we could count on you. I put some stinkbombs near the gravesite, a little canary cream in the desert and some fireworks. But my heart really isn't in it." He looks at Percy and smiles. "Brilliant, just brilliant. Would you mind snogging a bit, just for effect?"

Harry nods, casts a wandless " _finite_ " and turns to Penny. She is game enough, and grabs his face, as he holds her by the hips and they exchange a brief, intense kiss. They would both agree that kissing one another is not really a hardship.

After the kiss, a George places a hand on Harry's shoulder and turns serious. "You have to say something."

It takes a second for Harry to realize what he means. His discomfort is obvious. "He has a father and five brothers."

"Six."

Harry's eyes fill with tears. "Thank you." He shakes his head. "But I can't."

"No, Harrikins. I can't. I don't have the words, or the heart. But you, I know you have the words. And you're the only one who really gets it."

Harry looks into George's eyes for a second, and then nods. George gives him a hug. "Thank you."

Harry and Penny walk back to the front of the house. Molly, who had watched the kiss from a distance, approaches them, fuming. "Penelope Clearwater! What exactly do you thing you're doing? You are too old for him! And behaving like this? A loose woman at a funeral?"

Penny gives her a smirk worthy of a Malfoy. "I've traded up, Ms. Weasley. That stuck-up piece of rotten garbage you call a son for the greatest hero of the wizarding world." She gives Harry an adoring look. She then continues in an exagerated, breathless voice. "Besides, he saved my life and gave me a reason for living."

Harry thanks his occlumency training for not bursting out laughing. Penny lets go of Harry's hand and turns around, walking back towards George. Molly should be extremely offended for having her Percy called "garbage", but she looks at Harry and Penny, and instead of getting mad, she looks puzzled. Harry speaks softly. "Ms. Weasley..."

Confused, Molly falls back on her concerned mother personna. "What is it, Harry?"

He takes an innocent tone. "It's a Potter thing, you know."

"What?"

"Falling for smart, beautiful muggleborn witches."

Ron and Ginny approach, managing to catch that last statement. Ginny has a full face frown, like she's been eating one of the Headmaster's lemon drops. Ron is just looking a little vacant. "Oy, mate. What about Hermione? You think she isn't beautiful?"

"Of course she is beautiful. Are you complaining I haven't fallen for her?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, no!" Ginny punches him in the arm. "Ouch! What is it?"

"This was in Hermione's name."

"Why?"

"You're a prat, that's why!"

Harry smiles a bit. "I'm gonna have to agree with that."

Ron looks at his sister, and then at Harry. "Mental, you two." He walks away, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

Harry and Ginny exchange an amused glance, after watching Ron's departure. Harry likes Ginny's wit and spirit, and finds her tight athletic frame very sexy. But he is aware that she is a little too immature. He lets his shield down, to allow himself a taste of her magic. As expected, she is brightly powerful, with the texture of a slightly wet ball of yarn. "Hey."

Her disappointment shows, as she looks at Penny talking to George. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Too much." He gives her a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry, Gin. The Penny thing, it's just a prank."

Her eyes brighten with anger.. "You..."

Harry interrupts her. "Hey." He lift both hands, palm forward, and lets her calm down a bit. "We're not the same people who broke up a year ago."

"I know that. But I still feel the same."

"Do you?" He feels pretty much the same. But his mind is a lot clearer.

She catches the skeptical edge in his tone and colors, the edge of Weasley temper showing in her voice. "Of course I do! What happened to you?"

"Too much." He pauses a bit, but before she can say something else, he continues. "Now it's not the time for this conversation. But I promise to sit down and tell you everything."

"When?"

"It's crazy right now. In a couple of weeks? I'll cook you breakfast."

"All right." Then she catches the meaning of a breakfast date and really blushes. She gives him a sharp look. "A little presumptuous, aren't you?."

Harry laughs a bit. "Fine, Gin. A friendly date, all right?"

"Fine!" Harry can't tell whether she is relieved or disappointed. She stomps away, back towards the house.

Harry is aware that Kingsley is tracking him, like a large predador tracks his lunch, waiting to pounce. Percy is talking to him, and the Minister looks restless. Harry decides to get that, at least partially, out of the way. "Minister, can I have a word?."

"Sure Mr. Potter. You should call me Kingsley."

Harry ponders this a bit, as if it was a profound statement. "Very well. You may call me Harry. I know we need to talk."

The Minister laughs, a deep rumbling sound with little warmth to it. "We certainly do, Harry. Long and hard, about a great many things. But not today."

"I have an errand to do at the Ministry, the day after tomorrow. I could go to your office afterwards."

"If you don't mind me asking, what errand?"

"Sign guardianship papers for Edward Lupin." Harry is not ready to discuss paternity issues with Nym's former partner.

The Minister seems surprised. "You're raising Tonks son?" He gives a penetrating look at Harry.

"It's a heavy load for a teenager. I know they made you godfather, but I was assuming Andromeda would be the primary caregiver."

Harry realizes that Kingsley is probably an honorary uncle, or grandfather, to his son. That adds another complicated item to his agenda with the Minister. "It's what Nym wanted."

Kingsley nods, and places his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I loved Tonks like she was my own, Harry. If you ever need an honorary grandfather, or even someone to babysit, I would be very happy to help."

Harry thanks the minister. A little further, McGonagall is talking with Hagrid. Harry approaches them, with a smile directed at the half-giant. A huge hand pats him delicately on the shoulder. "Harry! So good to see you." McGonagall greets him with a nod and a thin smile.

"Hagrid, Headmistress. It's good to see you too. I hope the repairs are going well."

"As well as can be expected, Mr. Potter. I believe we will be able to open the school on September first."

"That's good to hear."

"Do you plan to attend? I am in need of a good Head Boy."

Hagrid "Yes, Harry. I hope you will come."

Harry crosses his hands behind his back and looks up. "I'd like to come, but I can't be Head Boy." He pauses for a bit. "And I need to be able to go home every night."

"Why?"

"I will be raising Remus and Nym's baby. I need to be there."

McGonagall looks skeptically at him. "And who will be in charge when you are in class?"

"I have house-elves."

The Headmistress seems to reflect a bit. "I may have a solution, but I need to check something first. Do you have any suggestion for Head Boy in your stead?"

Harry doesn't even need to think. "Neville, of couse."

She nods. "Good choice." Hagrid also nods in agreement.

"I have one favor to ask."

"What is it?"

Harry knows about Hagrid and discretion. He apologizes to the half-giant, pulling McGonagall to one side and casting a muffliato. "I'd appreciate some help with the animagus transformation."

"Ah! I should have known. Do you have any practice with meditation?"

"Actually, I've been practicing meditation. I think I found my amimagus form, without seeking it."

"So. What is it?"

"A large bird of prey from the arctic. I believe it's a gyrfalcon." Harry recalls what flying in bird form feels like and smiles. "I think I'm in love with my form."

McGonagall cackles. "It had to be a flying form. An apex predador, no less. Beautiful bird, too. How many times have you touched it?"

"Three. I've learned how to find it."

"Excellent. I'll be happy to tutor you. You're already half-way through. As a bonus, the animagus transformation should guarantee an "O" in the practical part of your Transfiguration NEWT. Your homework is to continue to touch your form during meditation, and to read everything you can about gyrfalcons. Do you know which classes you want to take?"

"Yes. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Healing and Magical Law. Someone suggested I could take the DADA NEWT this summer. I'd also like to take fifth year Runes, if possible."

"You have to talk to Babbling about Runes, but I have no objection. Would you be interested in teaching? I could swing an assistantship in DADA. That's assuming you pass the NEWT, of course."

"What would I have to do?"

"Teach first to third."

The offer takes Harry by surprise. He is aware that accepting would place a serious demand on his already limited time. However, it's something he would truly enjoy doing. "I'm tempted, but I'm not sure I can handle it. For sure, I'd have to forego quiddich, at least."

"You couldn't do both. If you're staff, you can't play a house team. Also, you'd be assigned teacher's quarters. You'd be expected to work under the supervision of the DADA professor."

"Do you know who that would be?"

McGonagall gives a self-satisfied smirk. "I've asked Sebastien Delacour. He's a former auror, with a mastery in defense. He indicated that taking up the full teaching load be impossible, given his current responsibilities as the ICW French delegate, but if you were willing to help..."

Harry met Monsieur Delacourt a few times, and he has a very good impression of the man."Very well, m'am. I accept."

The Headmistress appears very pleased. "Have you given any additional thoughts about your future? I remember you mentioning becoming an auror."

Harry laughs, without much humor. "I'm still wrapping my head around having a future at all. I only know two things, professor. I want to enjoy magic. Both learning it and practicing it. And I want to be a good father. I definitely don't want to spend my time chasing lawbreakers and writing reports."

McGonagall looks at him for a bit, with an unusual smile. "Enjoying magic and being a parent sounds like a wonderful plan, Mr. Potter." She pauses for a second. "What about quiddich?" She knew any professional franchise could use a seeker with Harry's talent.

"I don't think so. Too much hard work, not enough fun. I do love flying and chasing quick small things that try to escape. But I can get that in falcon form, without all the exhaustive practice and the competitive nonsense."

She can't entirely hide her disappointment. McGonagall is quite the quiddich fanatic, and she had dreams of her favorite seeker finally bringing the world cup to Britain. "I understand. Very mature of you, Mr. Potter."

Harry touches her upper arm, in a soft gesture that startles both of them. "I'm sorry."

She stiffens up. "There's nothing to apologize for. I can't be disappointed if you're exchanging quiddich for teaching."

Harry smiles. "Who's gonna be Captain?"

"That's up to the new Griffindor Head of House." She gives Harry a pointed glance. "What do you think of Mr. Weasley?"

"He would be a great Captain. Ginny might do a good job too." Harry finds it unlikely that Ron will go back to Hogwarts, even with the inducement of being team Captain. He removes the privacy spell and walks away, waving to Hagrid.

Harry looks around, noticing that Penny is chatting with George and Ron. Percy appears to be stuck next to Kingsley and other Order survivors, and Arthur and Molly are talking with an old lady, which Harry presumes to be Molly's aunt Muriel. Bill and Fleur are talking to Charlie, and Harry approaches the group. Bill smiles at him, and grabs him across the shoulders. "Penny, Harry? Nice going! I never understood what she saw in Percy..."

Harry deadpans it. "Predictability in a scary world."

They look at Harry, blinking in surprise. Fleur breaks the silence. "Zat's an amazingly penetrating accessment, 'arry." Charlie and Bill nod.

After a little bit, Fleur looks thoughful. "So, would you want somezing more wizz 'er?"

Harry looks straight into Fleur's eyes to answer. She looks transfixed, her eyes unfocus and her mouth comes slightly open. "No chemistry." They can both feel where suddenly there is a lot of chemistry. Bill and Charlie are oblivious to the exchange, laughing at a joke.

"'Arry. Can I speak in private wizz you for a minute?"

"Sure."

They walk away a bit and Harry casts again a privacy charm. "What 'appened, "Arry?"

"What do you mean?" Harry lets his occlumency shield down, and becomes aware of his magic and Fleur's dancing eagerly with one another.

"You, 'Arry. You're different. Your magic is stronger, and ze dark taint is gone."

Harry nods. "You have magesight."

She hesitates a bit. Veela are very secretive about their magic. But she is asking something personal, and she trusts this boy, perhaps more than anyone else outside her family. "A leetle bit. It a veela thing."

Harry also trusts her implicitly. "There was a bit of Voldemort's soul in my scar. During the final battle, Voldemort cast a killing curse at me. Instead of killing me, it killed his soul fragment. That's what allowed me to finish him for good."

She touches his forehead, sending a little electric spark through both of them. "Zut! Ze soul fragment was leeching your magie..."

"Yes. And distorting my eyesight and my thinking."

"Mon Dieu!" She breathes, calming down a bit. She looks back towards Bill, who is beckoning. "I must go. We'll talk." She walks away without waiting for a reply.

Harry stares at her shapely backside, shaking his head and a bit lost in memory and grief. He sighs and murmurs to himself. "Bye, Fleur."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Harry notices that Oliver, Angelina and Alicia had joined George, Penny and Ron. Katie had been killed in a fight between fleeing death eaters and the aurors, a couple of days after the battle. Seeing his teamates sets a dark cloud over his spirit. Oliver gives him a half hug and Angelina and Alicia, a big hug each.

Harry tries a light subject to clear his own funk. "Hey, Oliver. So, Puddlemere's starting Keeper?"

Oliver preens. "Not quite yet. But I will be starting more often. Stennis is set to retire in a year, and I'm his probable replacement." He looks at Angelina. "I heard our lead flying fox has a line on a second string chaser position for the Harpies. Is that true?"

Angelina looks embarassed. "I'm not supposed to say it yet..." Everyone congratulates her. The old team knows that's been her dream since before Hogwarts. "I'm still trying out during the summer recess, but it's looking really good."

Harry turns to Alicia, who's been quiet so far. "What about you? Any quiddich plans?"

Alicia looks at her shoes. "I'm not good enough."

We make noises of denial, but we know, in a sense, she is right. She is very good, but she doesn't have the size for the pros. Angelina has three inches and a stone and a half of pure muscle over her. Oliver puts it into words. "You're plenty good, babe. You're just not big enough, that's all. Talk about making it to the pros, management wants to talk to you, Harry."

Ron goes a little unhinged. "Oh, Harry! Did you hear that? It's Puddlemere, man! Damn!"

Harry places a hand on Ron's shoulder to calm him down. "Easy, Ron. Easy..." Everyone laughs, as Harry's best mate gets a hold of himself. "Next year, I'm going back to Hogwarts. I don't think I'll be turning pro. At all."

Ron gets upset. "Why, man?"

Harry gives him a level stare. "It's allowed, isn't it? I know Charlie chose dragons over quiddich." Nym told Harry that. They were dating before graduating, and the dragons spoke louder than either quiddich or a very attractive metamorphmagus. Harry wondered at the time what kind of idiot would let go of Bubblegum, dragons or not.

Ron looks dejected. "Yeah. It took me a while to forgive him."

"I think I just don't like the game enough to go pro, Ron."

Ron deflates, like Harry just killed his puppy. He kicks a rock on the ground and mumbles, mostly to himself. "But you can get rich, and famous!" As everyone is laughing, he catches up. "Ah!"

Harry looks away from Ron, he catches Penny looking at Oliver. He gets close and whispers to her. "Oliver?"

She whispers back. "He's damn cute."

"Go for it. Get an interview for the Quibbler."

Penny grabs Oliver by the arm and walks away, talking about an interview. Angelina and George also walk away, making Harry wonder about funerals as a pick-up venue. Ron also excuses himself. This leaves Alicia looking at Harry with a shy smile. Harry drops his shield a little, and feels for her magical presence. It's not the Fleur's presence somewhere to his back and right, but it is warm and inviting, in a familiar cafe-au-lait package. "What about you? What have you been doing since graduation?"

"My family owns a restaurant. A posh place near the City, called The Two Forks. I've been learning the business."

Harry frowns a bit. He vaguely recalls seeing the place, or maybe an ad. "A muggle place?"

"Yeah, mostly. It's been in my mum's family for a long time. It's got a hidden wizarding section too, and a floo address, "two forks". But most of the money comes from the muggle side."

Harry likes the idea of a business that stands between mundane and magical like that. "Cool."

"Thanks. It's a little stuffy, but quite good, if you know what to order. You should try it sometime." She looks at Penny's back. "Bring your girlfriend."

Harry laughs a bit. "She is just a friend, Leesh." She gives him a puzzled look. "We were playing a little prank on the Weasleys." he pauses and shrugs. "It's Fred's funeral."

Her face opens on a brief smile, then closes again. "Right." She hugs herself, and appears to be ready to cry for a second. "I still can't believe he's gone."

Harry looks at George and Angelina. "I know. But he left a large piece of himself behind."

Alicia looks at the ground, and Harry embraces her. "That piece is Angelina's. He was mine."

"I know. You two looked good together."

They stay quiet for a bit, lost in thought, Harry's arm across Alicia's shoulders, and her head softly leaning against his chest. "You were supposed to be Katie's"

Harry steps back, and looks at her, surprised. "What? She never..."

"She wanted to be your first. She said so, after that first game, when you caught the snitch with your mouth." Alicia's eyes brighten a bit with the memory. "You were so damn cute! Skinny and scared and brave. We were always a little in love with you, us chasers."

Harry opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say. He finally just says what was in his mind. "You witches really grow up fast. We were twelve and eleven at that game. I didn't even know girls existed."

She smiles softly. "And when did you find out? About girls, I mean.""

"Third year, I guess. I had a silly crush..."

"On Cho. Cute, but a total airhead."

Harry also smiles. "I found out."

They stay quiet a little more, still thinking about the dead. Alicia reaches for a lighter subject. "So, who was your first in the end? Ginny?" Harry doesn't reply, but gets visibly embarassed. "No!" Harry flinches, and she realizes she is being unkind. "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry..."

"It's ok." He shrugs with a sad smile. He can't remember anyways. "Been a little busy."

The sky turns to pinks and reds in the late afternoon. It's a half-mile walk, a shaded beaten earth path, to a corner of the Burrow's spread that Harry has never seen. Grave markers of departed Weasleys, going back three hundred years. A large oak dominates the little graveyard. An uncovered hole, and a shrouded body under a stasis spell are waiting. People stop at a clear space near the hole. Harry arrives with Alicia holding his arm and stands at the front of the crowd, close to the Weasleys. Arthur stands by the body and delivers a stiff, but heartfelt eulogy. Molly and Ginny cry openly. Arthur asks if anyone else would like to say a few words, looking at George. Harry walks around the hole and stands next to Arthur, his eyes still wet.

"I... I..." He stops for a bit, looking at everyone. He frowns. "It's kinda hard, all right?" Some people laugh a bit. "I don't trust many people. There's a few I trust completely by my side, and some of them are here." Harry smiles at Ron and Ginny. "But..., but there's been only two people I've really ever trusted to watch my back. Now I only have one left..." As Harry pauses for air, he feels a faint tug on his magic. He looks around, and seeing nothing, opens his mental shield. Under the confusing mixture of auras, there's a little knot of magic pulsating right in front of him. It's on the body's chest, and it feels a somewhat familiar.

Harry squats next to the body, as the noise of confusion rises from the crowd. He gestures the audience to wait, as he focuses his magesense. Harry extends his hand, and he feels this is a little like the resurrection stone, without the dark taint. Ignoring his doubts, he whips out his wand and touches the little knot, pushing a bit of magic into it.

Quickly Harry stands up and steps back, as a white mist rises from the body, coalescing into the ghostly shape of Fred Weasley. The ghost looks at Harry with a smile, gives him a deep bow and begins flying fast, pirouetting over people's heads, while laughing like a kid. Harry's thoughts follow a loop "...Merlin's beard. What have I done? Merlin's beard..." and everyone else just follows Fred's flight with their mouths open.

The ghost sets down softly next to Harry, still giggling, and addresses the crowd. "Don't worry, guys. I'm not staying." Fred makes a theatrical gesture. "The light calls... No, seriously. I mean. People stay because there's something left to do. The truth is, I'm sure my ugly, earless twin will take care of any of that." He flies again, and lands in front of Alicia. "With one exception."

She raises her tear stained face to him, and tries to smile. "I'm gonna miss you so much," she whispers.

The ghost raises a hand to the side of her face, without touching. "I'll be waiting for you, sweet lips. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, love." He flies again, and after another pirouette, lands in front of George. They exchange a look,

"I know,"

"no pouting. Give them"

"hell. I'll not let"

"our life work go to waste. And help Harry raise"

"The next generation of pranksters."

"The new marauders."

"Count on me."

"I'll be watching."

"Bye, Gred."

"Bye, Forge."

Fred's ghost flits around, saying goodbye to his family, and giving Percy a loud raspberry. Finally he flies back to the body and turns to Harry. "Thanks, Harrykins. I knew I could count on you."

Harry has recovered something resembling calm. "Glad to be of help."

Fred laughs again, gives a theatrical bow to the audience, with a pretend hat flourish and, like mist in the sunlight, disappears.

Harry and Arthur share a glance, and Arthur squeezes Harry's shoulder. Everyone ends up staring at Harry. Finally Harry notices it and holds his hands up, apologetically. "I'm sorry. I've got nothing."

Two seconds of silence follow. Someone begins laughing nervously, then someone else. Soon, the whole crowd is following.

After the laughter dies down, Harry walks back, to stand at Alicia's side again. Arthur uses a silent leviosa to lower the body into the hole, and banishes a mound of dirt into the grave, filling it. He places the stone slab, "Frederick Gideon Weasley, 1978-1998. Son, brother and friend." and the Weasley motto, " _Stare in Lumine_ ", Stand in the light. Arthur asks all those present to walk back to the house for refreshments.

The crowd moves away, but Harry, George, Angelina and Alicia stay back. Harry and the girls watch, as George waves his wand, to carve " _Mischief managed._ " at the bottom of the stone. Harry looks for a fallen branch of the ancestral oak above them. He finds it, and trims a piece, which he then transfigures into a beater's bat. He overpowers the spell, to make the transfiguration permanent, and, after an approving nod from George and the girls, places the bat on top of the stone, with a sticking charm. Alicia uses " _orchideus_ " to conjure a dozen white lilies, and Angelina transfigures a rock into a simple stone vase to keep them.

They walk back, Alicia and Harry trailing back. "Harry. I don't want to sleep alone tonight." Harry stiffens but doesn't say anything. "Please."

"Leesh..."

"No strings, sweetie." She places herself in front of him, and, on tiptoes, meets his lips with hers. Harry responds, deepening the kiss.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

If it was anyone else, he would turn her down. He trusts her, she is very attractive, black hair tied in a hundred little tresses, amber eyes on the light brown skin, broad smiling mouth and all the sweet curves with firm flesh underneath. His magic likes hers. Kissing her definitely gets him going. "It won't be weird tomorrow? I don't want to..."

She places a finger on his lips. Her soft smile reaches her eyes. "Shh. If anyone is taking advantage, it's me. Can we go to your place?"

"Sure."

They stay a few minutes at the Burrow. Several people ask him how he called Fred's ghost, and Harry explains he didn't call anyone. He says Fred knocked, and he just opened the door. People shake their heads in wonder, and Ron comments. "Only you, Harry. Never a dull day." A young redhead and a certain veela note that Harry is not leaving alone, one of them with an approving smile.

They stop briefly at St. Mungos, to check on Luna. Harry is informed she is doing fine, and should remain asleep until the next day. Then they floo to Grimmaulds place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Shell Cottage**

She loves the look in her handsome husband's eyes when she undresses for him. At least usually. Her allure is a little out-of-control, so the desire in his eyes, normally tempered with intelligence and humor, today looks a little glassy. He's resistant, but not immune. Almost nobody is. William's eyes unfocus, as her allure spikes. She smiles at him. "Do you want to join me in the tub, William?"

Without a word, he stands up and begins undressing. She undulates to their ensuite bathroom. During lovemaking, she must keep her allure down a bit, if she doesn't want him stunned, or spent too soon. He's a great lover, rough at times, gentle and considerate at others, willing to play and attentive to her needs. She casts the contraceptive charm, and enters the tub. Soon he joins her, and they begin kissing. Things heat up, and, as she feels him entering her, an involuntary allure flare-up and off he goes...

They are back in the bedroom, and he is sitting on their bed. He looks miserable. "I'm very sorry, love."

She is both frustrated and a little upset. She sits next to him, and grabs one of his hands in both of hers. "Eet is not your fault, William. I seem to be 'aving a leetle veela malfunction."

He looks at her, concern, and something else she cannot identify, replacing pure misery. "Do you know what is wrong?"

"Non."

A little while later she finds out what is on his mind. "Could you be pregnant?"

"I don't think so..." She reflects a bit, turning her awareness inwards, and shrugs. "Well... possibly."

A broad smile splits his face. It's the one thing he wants most of all. "Please check." She nods.

She lies down, spreads her legs and touches herself suggestively, clamping down a bit on her allure. Her need and frustration take over.

"I still could use a leetle 'elp..." His fingers and tongue are just as nimble as always. Soon she manages to forget her worries, as pleasure takes over and sleep follows.

 **Grimmauld Place**

The couple stumbles out of the fireplace. More practiced, Alicia gets up and helps Harry to his feet, casting a cleaning charm to get rid of the soot.

She looks around, taking in the decay and the snake-motif decor. "Harry. What is this place?"

Harry laughs a bit. "Home." Scuffed dark panelling, peeling paint. Horror-movie decor. A fitting home to some evil storybook wizard. Barely visible on the hallway, several house-elf heads grace the wall. "Ancestral home of the Ancient, Noble and Most Moldy House of Black."

She giggles. "Black? Really?"

He sighs. "It's a long story."

"Anyone else here?"

"No." Manners imprinted from years on Privet Drive linger somewhere in Harry's brain. "Can I offer you anything? Tea, wine. Maybe something stronger?"

Alicia smiles. "No, thanks. Just show me your bedroom."

They climb up the stairs to the third floor. Harry opens the double doors to the master bedroom.

Alicia eagerly takes it all in. A huge bed, graped in red and gold, and the walls trimmed in Griffindor colors. In one wall, a huge muggle poster of a topless brunette draped over a motorcycle, with impossible looking breasts. After the dark decor of the rest of the house, this couldn't be more unexpected. "Oh, my..." She has a brief attack of the giggles. "Go Lions!"

On top of his nerves, Harry is embarrassed by the room's decor. He likes it, because the in-your-face style reminds him of Sirius, but he had never thought about bringing someone here. "Sorry."

She briefly caresses jis arm. "Oh, please. I kinda like it." She points to the poster and holds up her breasts. "My girls are not like that, though."

Harry's embarassment triples, he blushes and looks to the floor, mumbling something unintelligible.

His reaction reminds Alicia of the tiny firstie, who looked so afraid and out-of-place and suddenly would became pure magic on a broom. Her grieving heart melts a little, as she sees that the cute little boy is still around, inside the handsome young man in front of her. She approaches him and brings his face up, eyes on hers. "What is it, darling?"

"I said I'm sure yours look better."

The clumsy compliment touches her. "Thank you." She gives him a slow kiss on the lips. Stepping back a bit, she takes off her robe, and tries to wiggle out of the black muggle dress she was wearing underneath. "Harry. Would you unzip me?"

"Sure." He finds the top of the ziper and pulls it down. Her dress just puddles down at her feet.

His eyes are everywhere, except her. "I know this is not sexy knickers, but you can look at me." In truth, she went for comfort when choosing her underthings that afternoon. Blue cotton panties and a white muggle brassiere. She pulls her bra over her head and stands in front of him, topless in her granny knickers, tan knee highs and sensible low heel shoes. Shoulders sets back, to make her c-cups look perky. Faded bikini mark, and small dark brown aureolas with largish, very sensitive nipples His eyes fasten on her breasts, and a little wonder and lust gets added to his tense demeanor. She smiles reassuringly. "So?"

He seems to dry swallow something. "They are nice."

"Harry, darling, you need to relax a bit. Remember, You've known me forever, and I'm your friend. " His shoulders seem to sag a bit. She brings him closer. "Will you touch them?"

He cups them in his hands, kneading softly. His hands are gentle, and surprisingly rough. The magic in his touch tingles a bit. She moans and guides his hands to her nipples. She moans a little more. He's still a little insecure. "Am I doing this right?"

It's his first time, so slow is right. "Just fine. They're sensitive, but tough. Don't be afraid." They kiss as he continues to caress her. She teached him about other nice spots. Her ears, the little place in her neck. He suckles and licks and bites softly, following her instructions. They lie in bed, snogging starkers, until Harry relaxes fully. She goes down on him, shock, lust and pleasure mixing on his face. She cries a little when he comes, recalling the last time she did this. She shows him her folds, which he touches with his fingers and tongue. She comes, crying and moaning and scaring him a bit.

Finally, he lies on top of her, and she guides him in. Hesitant at first, he follows his instincts and alternates between slow and fast, driving her wild. They switch positions, with her on top, and soon they come together, screaming each other's names. They cuddle, cry, for a while, and finally fall asleep.

Alicia wakes up alone. She gets up, stretches a bit and walks to the ensuite for her morning needs. When she gets out of the bathroom, the bed is made and yesterday's clothes are clean and carefully placed on top of it. Alicia smiles and murmurs to herself. "Fine establishment. Top notch service."

A soft pop and a small female elf appears before her, bowing. "Thank you, Missy Spinnet. I'm Winky. Can I help?"

Alicia puts on her knickers and walks into Harry's closet choosing a muggle band t-shirt she plans on keeping. The little elf is patiently waiting for her. "Where is Harry?"

"Master Harry is in his study, Miss. Out the door to the left, first door on the right."

Alicia skips out the door. "Thank you, Winky." The door to the study is nearly closed, with maybe half an inch between the door and the frame. Alicia knocks lightly. "Harry?"

"Oh, come in, Leesh."

She walks right in, his invitation negating a set of powerful wards that protect the study from intrusion. It's a large room, with dark paneling, a tall narrow window, a black leather sofa, tea table, a fancy looking desk with a big chair behind it and two wooden armchairs, a heavy bookcase brimming with books and strange-looking items and a single painting of a stern looking man in a dark suit to one side. Harry is sitting behind the desk, with a pile of correspondence to one side, parchment, quills and ink to another. He is frowning at whatever he is currently reading as she comes in. It takes him a few seconds to lift his sight and, as he sees her, the frown turns into a luminous open smile that makes her tingle. "Wow! That looks a lot better in you than it does on me."

Alicia puts her arms up, showing off her fine abs, her granny knickers, and does a pirouette. "I'm glad you like it, sir..."

A gravelly voice comes from the painting. "Thank you for the show, Miss..."

"Eep!" Alicia jumps behind the desk, hiding, as Harry jumps up from his chair, and glares at the painting.

The old man in the painting looks a little embarassed himself. "I apologize, young lady."

Alicia quickly realizes she shouldn't really be embarassed about exposing herself to an old painting. Besides, as long as she keeps her arms down, she's actually decently covered. She stands up and walks around, stopping next to Harry. "Excuse me. I am Alicia Spinnet. And you?"

"Arcturus Orion Black. Former head of House Black." The painting grimaces at Harry. "The most moldy one."

Despite the painting's levity, Harry is quite annoyed, and his tone shows it. "Did you just become active?"

Alicia touches Harry's arm, to calm him down, and he gives her a grateful smile. The painting replies in a serious tone. "No, grandson. I became active when you took charge of the Manor's wards. I've just been observing, but when the young lady came in, I feared I would be watching more than I should. I apologize to you as well, for the intrusion."

Harry quickly realizes that the painting may be an extremely valuable resource, one that he desperately needs. "That's fine. Apology accepted."

"Thank you. Pardon my curiosity. Are you two... together?"

Alicia replies. "No, sir. We're old friends who shared a night together." She looks at Harry and smiles. "A very pleasant night."

Harry smiles back at Alicia. "Thank you."

Arcturus gives Alicia a curious stare. "Are you related to Margareth Savoie, by any chance?"

Alicia smiles at that. "My full name is Alicia Margareth Spinner, sir. She's my maternal grandmother. Everyone says I look a lot like her."

Arcturus smiles. "I'll have to agree with that, young lady. Is she still among the living?"

"Yes, sir. A sprightly ninety-two."

"You will send her my warmest regards, please. At one time, we were... very close friends too."

With the slightly naughty tone, Harry notes the resemblance of the man in the painting to his godfather and laughs softly.

Arcturus frowns as he turns to Harry. "Why the laughter?"

"You reminded me of Sirius for a moment."

Arcturus nods, accepting Harry's comment as a cumpliment. He turns back to Alicia. "Your family still runs The Two Forks?"

She preens a bit, surprising Harry. "Yes, sir. I work there."

"I believe the Black still owns a small share. We also have a private wine collection in your cellars." Alicia smiles widely at that. "I strongly recommend the roast venison, grandson. With an old Bordeaux..."

Alicia interrupts the painting. "It's to die for! The venison, I mean. The rub is an old family secret." Harry can easily spot Alicia's love for the place.

Harry pulls her in and gives her a peck in the cheek. "I guess giving up quiddich wasn't such a hardship for you after all."

She nods. "True." Her stomach makes a growling noise, and she looks apologetic, patting her stomach. "Talk about venison, I guess I'm hungry." They go down for breakfast, and Alicia leaves soon afterwards.

Harry goes back to the study. After he sits down and turns to the portrait. "How long do you have?" Arcturus asks.

"About an hour. Today is the funeral of Nymphadora and Remus Lupin."

"Andromeda's Nymphadora?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Yet another beautiful Black witch gone. Did she actually marry the werewolf?"

"That's what I was told." Harry frowns a bit. "Actually, they probably did a muggle wedding." As far as Harry knows a werewolf marrying a witch was, and is, against the law.

"That would make sense."

"You knew Remus? You knew he was a werevolf?"

"By name, and yes. He was a close associate of my heir. Of course I knew of him. But he was, what? Eleven years older than her? "

"They were in love. They left a son, supposedly they made me his godfather."

"Supposedly?"

"I recently found out I am the actual father."

The portrait smiles in a rather scary way. "Really?"

"Yes. It was a surprise, because the memory of the deed is blocked. With my consent too."

The satisfaction in the portrait's face is obvious. "This is truly fortunate. Given his parentage, I'm sure he's going to be a remarkable wizard."

"He's inherited the metamorph gift from his mother."

"Excellent. It's a old gift from the Black line, but it needed a little infusion of muggleborn wild power to manifest again. Nymphadora was the first full Black metamorphmagus in two centuries. That's why I brought her into the family after her grandfather Cygnus died."

The idea of muggleborn wild power awakening old pureblood family gifts makes Harry's head spin. He sets that aside for layer. "So, she was an actual Black witch."

"You're the only one to know about it. There's a nice trust vault in her name at Gringotts, that now belongs to your son."

"I could probably use some advice on how to handle registering his parentage at the ministry. This is going to cause a media storm."

"It's actually quite simple. Make a public announcement. The heir of Black and a Black witch produced an heir for the family. Family law even makes him legitimate."

"What?"

"Our family law recognizes the blind preference of Black magic for inbreeding. It's not just pureblood stupidity that makes our family so inbred. Our magic actually pushes us towards other Blacks. Given how powerful both of you were and the poor condition of the Black lineage, I wouldn't be surprised if family magic pushed you two together quite forcefully, specially here at the Manor."

Harry needs his occlumency to keep from an open display of anger. So his feelings for Bubblegum were manipulated by Black family magic? His reply is cast in a very cold tone. "I would have thought Black family magic would want nothing with a pair of half-bloods, one of them with very little Black blood like myself."

"You could think that." Arcturus points a finger upwards. "Can you feel the call?"

Harry feels a demand of sorts, whenever he's at the manor. "Yes, it's there."

"It's Black family magic. It knows you, and it needs you to embrace it. Its very strong here at the manor."

Harry glares at the painting. "I really dislike being pushed."

Arcturus shrugs. "I have to show you something." He directs Harry to a secret compartment in the desk, that requires a drop of blood to open. Inside, a fat muggle envelope, with "Harry" written across it. Harry opens it and spills the content on the desk. In the middle of assorted documents, there's a rolled parchment tied with a black ribbon. "Read the tied parchment first." The loopy handwriting is painfully familiar.

 _Godric's Hollow, March 12th, 1991_

 _To Arcturus Orion Black, Head of House, Lord Black, Grandfather._

 _This letter is to inform you that on this date, I, Sirius Orion Black, scion of House Black, have blood adopted the infant Harry James Potter. He is renamed Harry James Black Potter. In addition, I declare him to be my sole heir. This was done with the agreement of the boy's parents, to help protect him with Black magic and influence, and to keep the Black away from the Death Eaters. You should also be aware that there is a prophecy connecting the fates of Harry and Voldemort. The precise wording is too sensitive for a letter._

 _Your errant grandson,_

 _S.O.B._

Harry slumps at his chair, holding the letter, while fat tears roll down his face. After a few minutes, he addresses nobody in particular. "The bastard. He never told me."

"Do you know why?" Arcturus asks him in a cold tone.

The question pulls Harry out of his funk. He thinks back for a minute. "Yeah, I know why. It would have complicated things, and changed nothing. Father or godfather, he was the only family I had." Harry then thought of the Malfoys, and of himself standing between them, and the Black inheritance. "It was dangerous knowledge too." Arcturus gives an approving nod. "Am I still a Potter?"

"If you did an inheritance test, either at Gringotts or at the family office at the Ministry, you would show two fathers and one mother."

"I see." Harry reflects for a bit. "I may be a Black, but I'm still a half-blood, Great-grandfather."

A proud smile appears on Arcturus stern face. "You can call me Grandfather." He then continues. "Family magic as powerful as ours is near-sentient. It knows nothing of politics, but it knows magic. And you are very powerful." He means, it will overlook such a minor detail as Harry's inadequate blood status.

Harry can't avoid smiling a bit. He can almost taste the will Arcturus is describing. "I have so many questions..."

"We have time, grandson. I'm here to teach and advise. Will you assume the Black?"

Harry thinks about putting it off for a while. He is still angry getting pushed around, specially questioning his feelings for Bubblegum. But he knows he would just be delaying the inevitable. Helped by his magesense, his magic is settled and adjusted from death and the horcrux removal. Adding the Black shouldn't be a problem. Harry sighs. "Yes. What should I do?"

"Take up your wand." Harry draws his blackthorn wand. Arcturus looks at it and frowns. "What is this wand?"

"Blackthorn with a thestral hair core. Custom made."

Blackthorn is an unusual wood for a wand, and Arcturus never heard of using thestral hair for a core. "Push a little magic out and repeat. I, Harry James Sirius Black Potter assume the Black lordship, by blood and by magic. So mote it be."

Harry does it, and a silver mist surrounds him. Harry feels something powerful and dark combining with his magical core, adding to it, changing it. The silver mist dissipates, and a large bound book with the Black family crest embossed on the leather cover appears on top of the desk.

"This is the Black grimoire, grandson. It contains history, rituals, spells and general magical knowledge associated with our family and its magic. You should read it, practice it and live it."

Harry carefully opens the book at a random location. It's a description of a ritual to bind someone's magic. Further along, notes on magical snakes, some dark curses and their countercurses, a nice drawing and a description of some hidden Mayan ruins.

Harry recalls there were some words Arthur entoned while burying Fred. He turns to the painting. "Are there any incantations or a specific ritual for a funeral?"

"Ask the book."

Harry places his hand on the book. "Show me funeral rites." The book opens, and pages turn, until they stop somewhere. The left page is blank, and the right page has the handwritten title "Black burials." There is an extensive description about mourning periods, body preparation, stasis spells and, towards the end, the description of one incantation that must be performed by the Head of House. It permanently removes the magical potential from the remains, making them useless in rituals or potions Harry studies the incantation and practices it a bit, under Arcturus scrutiny.

"I should be going. I'm meeting Andromeda and Teddy at her home."

"Are you bringing her back to the Black?"

"Yes. Instructions?"

"First, you should be using your signet ring. It's in the Gringotts heirloom vault, but you can call it to you. It goes on the ring finger of your right hand."

Harry extends his right hand. "Black signet ring." A heavy golden ring with a black stone and an engraving of a raven appear on the appropriate finger, instantly resizing to fit.

"When you see Andromeda, hold her left hand with your right and say: "I restore you to the Black." She was merely disowned, so that should be enough."

"Anything else?"

"Bring her home, grandson. She is knowledgeable, smart, able and powerful. Bring her to see me as soon as you can."

Harry salutes the painting with a shallow bow before taking his leave. "Thank you for your guidance, grandfather. It's been a pleasure to meet you."

The painting responds with a slightly deeper bow. As Harry leaves the study, he still hears the painting speaking softly. "Watch your back, grandson."

 **Tonks Residence**

Harry tumbles out of the floo, right at Andromeda's feet. She is wearing stark silk black robes, with an elegant cut, and her black hair is tied up in a bun. She has her arms crossed under her breasts, and is smirking at him fondly. Much to his surprise, standing next to her is Narcissa Malfoy. Blonde, a bit taller than her sister, she is wearing black robes of the finest silk, cut to highlight her imposing figure. He gets up, scourgifies himself and directs a shallow bow at Andromeda. "Well-met, Aunt." He then gives an even shallower bow to the other witch. "Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa is not quite as powerful as Andromeda, but Harry's magic purrs like a kitten in her presence. Harry thinks it's a reaction to the Black blood in her, and wonders what Draco's magic would feel like now.

Andromeda looks at the ring on his finger and returns a deeper bow. "Well met, Lord Black. Welcome." Seeing the ring, Mrs. Malfoy grows pale, and, after a moment of dismay, wraps herself in icy haughtiness. She gives Harry a deep bow and whispers. Well met, mylord. She keeps her eyes on at Harry, as if waiting for something. Harry is well-aware he owes her an important debt. So he gives her an opening. "Can I help you, Mrs. Malfoy?"

The witch looks relieved, and a thin smile appears in her face. "We must talk, mylord. Family business."

Harry looks at Andy, looking for guidance. Andy gives a minute head shake. "Now is not the time or the place, Mrs. Malfoy. Would tomorrow afternoon be convenient?"

The witch frowns a bit. "There is a certain urgency, mylord."

"Very well. Can you stay behind after the burial and accompany me to the Manor?"

"Yes I can." She grabs one of his hands. Her touch feels cold, but not unpleasant. Far from it, in fact, which annoys Harry a bit. He pulls back, removing his hand from hers. She looks into his eyes. Her mind touches Harry's, and he gets a glimpse of her surface feelings, an odd mix of hope and fear. "Thank you, mylord."

Harry wonders if that kind of mind touch can deceive, but his instincts tell him to trust it. He knows he is rather out of his depth with Narcissa. Seeking help, he turns to Andromeda. "You'll join us, I hope."

"I have no place in family business."

Harry smiles. "Easily remedied." He takes up her right hand on his left and calls the family magic, as instructed by Arcturus. " _Familia Incantate_ ". As the silvery sensation of Black magic wraps around them, Harry intones. "Andromeda Cassiopeia Tonks, I, Harry James Sirius Black Potter, Head of House Black, recall you the the Black family and promise you its protection and support. Do you accept and swear your loyalty to the family?"

"I do."

"So mote it be."

A swirl of magic involves Andromeda. She gives a little "Eep" and the first real smile Harry's ever see on her face. She jumps on Harry, giving him a hug worthy of Hermione. "Thank you, thank you Harry."

"Happy to do it." Harry glances at Narcissa, who is dabbing at the corner of her eye with a little cloth. Harry smiles at her, and she curtsies back.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Harry is near the grave, Teddy in his arms, greeting the people who came to the funeral. He is a little surprised that, of all the Weasleys, only Charlie and Fleur come. They arrive together, Fleur wearing the same elegant black robes from yesterday.

Charlie steps forward, shaking Harry's hand. "My parents asked me to apologize, but there's still some family members staying at the Burrow and they couldn't just leave."

"That's fine, Charlie. I'm glad you and Fleur came." Harry points to the baby. This is Teddy."

Teddy smiles at Charlie, and his hair turns Weasley red. Charlie gives a sad smile, but Fleur gives her sexy, tinkly laugh. "Oh, my! 'e is really Dora's! Can I 'old 'im?"

"Sure." Harry carefully passes her the baby. She coos at him, holding him with one hand, while caressing his face with the other. The baby turns his hair silver white. Suddenly Fleur stiffens and frowns, turning a sharp look towards Harry. Her magesense just might be sensitive to feel the parent-child connection between Harry and Teddy. Harry just nods and mouths "Later," without making a sound.

Charlie feels something is amiss. "What is it, sis?"

Fleur gives the baby back to Harry, still frowning at him. She then turns back to Charlie and smiles. "Eet is nozzing, Charlie. I zought for a second zere was a leetle werewolf in ze baby, but I was wrong. Zere is no trace of werewolf in zis boy." She turns back to Harry. "'e's got a strong aura. 'e's going to be a powerful wizard. Congratulations, 'arry."

Harry needs his occlumency shield to keep from stuttering under Fleur's magic and angry scrutiny. "Thank you."

She hands Teddy back, and he fusses a bit. With a gentle motion, Harry calms the baby down, under Fleur's frowning attention. "You are always full of surprises, Leetle Boy."

Harry presses his lips together, supressing a smile at the old insult. "Life is full of surprises, F irebird. I just roll with the punches."

 **Grimmauld Place**

Harry tumbles out of the fireplace and clears Narcissa to visit the Manor. She arrives a minute later, gracefully stepping out of the fireplace. She looks around, a grimace of disgust on her face.

"What happened to this place?"

Harry shrugs. "It's a long story..."

Kreacher pops next to them and bows deeply to Narcissa. "Mistress Cissa."

She looks surprised at seeing the elf. "Kreacher! You live!"

"Yes, Mistress." He makes a shallow bow at Harry. "The Blood Traitor Lord Black is a powerful wizard." Strong masters mean healthy, long-lived elves.

Harry smiles softly and Narcissa frowns. "This place is a disgrace. You haven't been doing your job." Kreacher looks down, his hairy ears drooping.

"And you should show our Lord some respect."

Kreacher droops some more, so Harry interrupts. "Kreacher and I have an understanding, Narcissa. He's proved his loyalty."

Kreacher stands up a little straighter and Narcissa looks doubtful. "You shouldn't let him disrespect you. It's unseemly!"

Harry laughs. "I don't find offense in being called 'blood traitor', or 'dirty halfblood'. At least not by Kreacher."

"Still..."

"I agree with you that this place is a disgrace. But I fear cleaning it may be too much for Kreacher."

She nods, doubtful. "Maybe. Tippy!"

A young-looking female elf pops up. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Help Kreacher clean up this place."

Both elfs pop out. Harry turns to the witch. "Thank you. How can I help you?"

"I've recently gained access to my marriage contract. Lucius comdemnation allows the contract being cancelled by the head of House Black, returning my dowry, with

interest and stiff penalties."

Harry nods. "But why?"

"The Malfoy name is sullied beyond redemption. I wish to be rid of it. "

"What about Draco?"

She shrugs. "He's of age. He will do as he sees fit. After his judgement, I hope he will ask you to end House Malfoy by adding it to the Black, but that is up to him."

"I seriously doubt he will do that. He hates me. He sees me as his worst enemy."

She smiles bitterly. "Lucius did a poor job raising him."

Harry shrugs. "Lucius is an abomination worse than Voldemort, in his way."

"I don't disagree."

"I'll do it. Tomorrow?"

She bows. "Is there any service that House Black requires of me?"

"Yes, if I can trust you."

"I'll be happy to pledge my services to the family and to you."

Harry nods, doubtful. "I need a political advisor. Andromeda has been helping me, but she finds it nearly as distasteful as I do."

She smiles. "I can certainly help with that."

"Can you get behind a blood-traitor political agenda?"

She grimaces. "If you allow me to voice dissent in private, I'll gladly help you carry out your vision for House Black."

"That' would be excellent. We'll try it.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Harry."

 **St. Mungo's**

She awakens but does not open her eyes. No pain anywhere, thirsty, full bladder. Harsh linen soap smell, her own sweat. Large room, distant steps, echo. Someone close, slow breathing, a familiar scent, just a hint. Strong magical presence, somewhat familiar. Her magic, pulsating happy near her navel. She knows exactly who it is. A small smile and she opens her eyes. Bright green eyes.

"Harry Potter. You came."

His tone is soft, and the smile, warm and welcoming. "Hi, little moon."

He sits on her bed and leans towards her. She extends her hand, and touches the faint scar on his forehead. "The garinbulp is gone."

He laughs softly. "Yes it is."

"What happened? How did it go away?"

"Voldemort killed it."

"Ah! It was his, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

She nods slowly, her clear blue eyes staring intently into his. "I'm glad." Suddenly she frowns, as if remembering tasting something bad. "You shouldn't have come. I so wanted to go be with them." She pauses for a bit, while a lone tear goes down his face. She picks it up with her finger and tastes it with the tip of her tongue.

Harry caresses her cheek. "I understand."

"I know you do."

"But I'm selfish."

A faint frown. "You're not!"

"Yes I am. I've lost so much, little moon. I couldn't face losing you too."

She looks at him, her abstracted smile looking a little lost. "I'm tired, Harry Potter." She grabs his right hand with both of hers. Her hands are small, with spidery thin fingers and surprisingly rough palms, evidence of a lifetime of working with her hands. "I have no home, no family, and I'm broken inside. They said I could never have children." No tears. Harry realises he's never seen her cry.

"I have a home, and I can be your family, if you will let me. I even have a little son that could use a clever live-in aunt."

"You have Hermione Granger."

"I know I do. But I need you too. Hermione and I both do, actually. Please, come live with me."

Her abstracted demeanor breaks down. "You mean it."

"Of course I do."

She sighs. "Very well, Harry Potter. You got yourself a guest. Can we go now?"

Harry hugs her, letting their magic mingle. "They said you should stay one more night. You can come home tomorrow. I'll bring you a dress to wear."

"I don't have any clothes."

"We'll go shopping." Harry slides back a bit, looking serious. "There's something else. I was with Penelope Clearwater when I found you at the Quibbler. Do you remember her?"

Luna frowns a bit. "Yes. Head girl my second year. Clever and kind. The nargles only really got loose at Ravenclaw Tower after she left to become Head Girl. She was writing for the Prophet. She writes well."

"She is muggleborn, and the war was hard on her." Luna nods. "I asked her to run the Quibbler, and I gave her a little money to do it. There's an issue coming out next week. I'm going to give her an interview about the final battle."

Luna seems unfased. "Why did you do that?"

Harry reflects a bit before answering. "First, I know you like the paper, and you'd have a hard time publishing it without Xeno. If Penny runs it, it's still there, and you can keep contributing as you always did. Second, Penny was there, set on leaving magic behind as a bad job. That would be an awful shame, given how bright, hardworking, powerful and decent she is. Third, we need at least one honest news source. I know I overstepped, but I thought..."

"It's fine, Harry." She smiles. "I agree, and, in fact, you didn't overstep at all. I think you own a quarter share of the Quibbler, so you were acting to protect your investment." She finishes with a giggle.

"Really? How did that happen?"

"After we published the interview with you, we got into a little bit of trouble. Stubby Boardman came around and offered to help. Daddy wouldn't just take his money, you know?"

"I see."

Luna looks a little abstracted again. "Do you find me attractive, Harry?"

He doesn't need to think. "Yes."

"I can't be your girlfriend, you know?"

"Why not?"

"I'm like you."

"Right."

She giggles again. "I mean, I'm like you. I also like girls."

"Oh."

"I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't!" There's a little disappointment in his voice that he can't quite hide.

She frowns, and speaks in her most level tone. "Harry Potter, I'm sure you can find a willing witch easily."

"Not as cute and sexy as you."

She waves her hands dismissively. "Oh, poo!" She gives him a tight hug. "You could do me a little favor."

"What?"

"Merge House Lovegood into House Potter. They sort of get along, magically, you know?"

Harry looks puzzled. "You sure?" She nods, and then he nods. "No problem. Just tell me what to do."

 **Perth, Western Australia**

She wakes up with the tapping at the window. It's dark, and the clock shows three and a bit. She's at the fifteenth floor of a modern hotel, and tapping at the window...

The owl is probably a native species, small and gray, with a serious look. After struggling a bit, Hermione finally manages to open the window using the alohomora charm, lets the bird in and relieves her of the letter. She looks sad when Hermione apologizes for having nothing to offer.

 _Dear Bookworm,_

 _I hope everything is going well with your search. I've missed you so much! I don't know how long it will take for this letter to find you, but It's been two weeks since you left. So much has happened, I don't even know where to begin. Let's see... I found out my animagus form, almost by accident. McGonagall will teach me the transformation when classes start. I know, you want to know the form. I'm not telling you. Maybe your curiosity will encourage you to come back a little faster..._

Hermione lifts her head from the letter and growls a little. "Prat!"

 _... I found Luna, passed out, dehydrated and starving at the Quibbler's offices, behind a mean set of wards. She is fine now, or what passes for fine among us, war-chewed teens. It's a little touchy; she's had it even worse than we did, but she is Luna, and I'll never understand why she is not a Gryff._

 _I've taken up the Black, and I've been studying and practicing Black family magic. Andromeda and an old family portrait are helping. There is Teddy. Right now I can change poopy diapers feed, and bathe him, and I'm working on helping him when he is colicky. Parenting is a little scary, but I don't think I've ever enjoyed anything quite so much, though. Teddy likes to mimic the people around him. You should see his Luna. He also tries to do Winky, which is beyond funny. They are living at the manor, Andy, Teddy and Luna, with Kreacher and Winky. It's a little family, but my bookworm is missing. There's a lot more to tell, but I'd rather wait until you come back. Write to me care of Jon Frasier, Esq Lower Building suite 3211, Sydney. Leave an address and we can keep writing. Good luck. Did I mention I miss you? Luna sends her love. So do I. Hurry back,_

 _Seeker_

Morning finds Hermione asleep with the letter in her hand, and a small smile on her face.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Hermione set up the appointment a week in advance. About fifteen minutes before her time, she checks in with the receptionist, a cute twenty-something dressed conservatively, and speaking with a fast nasal accent. Hermione takes a seat, filling out an intake questionnaire, while the receptionist keeps covertly staring at her. Hermione can easily guess why. Her mother is forty, but looks younger, and could easily pass as her sister. It's a popular practice, about eight dentists in a converted two-story building. Her mother, under the Monica Wilkins alias, appears to be the latest addition. Hermione's father, Derek Wilkins, is a surgeon, and, according to her private investigator, works out of a hospital a couple of miles away.

Hermione is called and takes the patient's seat It's a small room, and the equipment looks a little worn. An assistant takes a short history, examines her and takes X-rays. He then leaves and her mother comes in, looking at the x-rays and speaking. "Hi, I'm Doctor Wilkins. Your wisdom teeth are in the right position, and it seems that there is enough space for them..."

The familiar voice, speaking in such a matter-of-fact tone, nearly dismantles Hermione's composure. She turns around to look at her mother. She can barely articulate. "H-H-How far along are you?"

Hermoine's mother replies with a happy smile and the soft caress of her own bump. "Twenty weeks". Hermione slams down her occlumency shield, to keep some measure of self-control. The pregnancy is... unexpected. The dentist gives Hermione a curious stare. "Do I know you? It says here that you're new..."

Of course she knows Hermione. All she needs to do is look at a mirror. "I don't think so."

She turns on the light and starts examining Hermione's mouth. "Beautiful teeth." She presses her tool under the gumline, and Hermione feels a rough rasping. "A little tartar build-up. More work with your brush, young lady!" Hermione blushes. A long year of poor nutrition and hygiene can't be good for your teeth. "Very well. A good cleaning and fluor application should set you back on the righteous path." Hemione sighs. It was going to be a very long half-hour.

 **Grimmauld Place**

Harry, Andromeda and Luna are having dinner when Kreacher pops and delivers the letter. Harry looks puzzled, until he checks it. "It's Hermione's". This awakes Luna's interest and Andromeda's curiosity.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I found them! It's great, I know, but I had a plan. Let me go from the start. I didn't obliviate them. It's nearly impossible to recover obliviated memories. I blocked their memory of me, and implanted a modified new identity. It's done with a potion, which loosens their natural defenses, plus a combination of compulsion charms and a very simple version of a fidelius. This stuff is used occasionally by aurors, and Tonks taught me. Undoing it needs the same potion again, plus a mind version of the termination charm. It's fairly simple and safe, but the potion is essential, as it makes recovering the blocked memories a lot less dangerous. I have some handwritten notes with instructions for brewing the potion. It's OWL-level stuff, and I brewed a batch before coming to Australia. I was going to do it to my mum today, but I ran into trouble. She's pregnant, about five months. You know as well as I do, no potions to pregnant or nursing women, unless you're a healer. I'm enclosing a copy of the brewing instructions. Can you find out if it's safe? Thanks!_

 _Hermione_

Harry gets up and paces. No banter, no nicknames... she is clearly very upset. He really wants to go to her, but that's not really possible. There are both magical and legal reasons that Harry can't leave Teddy for more than a day or two, and the baby is not allowed out of the country. Harry hands the note to Andromeda. "Do you want me to go to her?"

"Yes, please. The embargo is still in effect, so you'll need to go muggle. Do you mind?"

"I don't mind going muggle, Harry. My husband was muggleborn and we lived between worlds as much as we could. But that's not needed. I have a magical Mexican passport."

Both Luna and Harry look surprised. "Really?"

"The Black family owns an island on the Caicos archipelago. Muggle Turks and Caicos is a part of Britain, but it's magically a part of Mexico. Having an extra passport was a kind of insurance for the Black family members, in case things got too hot here. Anyways, you can arrange for an international portkey."

"I'll check. With any luck, they can get you straight to Perth."

"That's fine." She gets up "I need to go by the shop for ingredients. I'll be ready to go in an hour."

"Be gentle with her, please. She is family. And, this is certainly very confusing."

"Sure." Andromeda gives Harry a hug. "Write her a note."

Harry looks relieved. "Thank you."

"It's nothing. As you said, she's family."

 **The Burrow**

Harry, Teddy and Luna arrive on time for tea. It's been a week since Fred's funeral, and Molly's note made it clear that Harry's presence for tea was necessary. Initially she greets Harry with a tight hug, but the mood gets a little colder when she realizes Harry is not alone. Both Harry's and Luna's eyebrows go up, with Molly's initial reaction. "Hello, Luna. Whose baby is this? Is it yours?"

Luna replies in her most absent tone. "It's Harry's."

Her tone rises a bit. "What do you mean Harry's? Harry, what have you done? Whose baby is this?"

Harry can't help it. "I'd like to introduce my son and heir. Edward Sirius Black."

Molly's tone gets even more strained. "Black? And who is the mother? Luna? Hermione?" Her face becomes red, and Teddy begins to fidget, reacting to Molly's tone.

Harry pushes out his magic, calming Teddy, scaring Molly, and making Luna giggle. "He is Nymphadora's."

Molly crosses her arms under her ample bosom and turns to her motherly tone. "You can't adopt a baby. Besides, his grandmother is alive and well. Where is Andromeda?"

Luna replies. "Australia." Harry had never realized how much Luna enjoys needling Molly. Although it's like shooting fish in a barrel, like the americans say.

Harry spoils the fun a bit. "Hermione needed a little help. And I don't need to adopt him. He is really mine."

Luna slaps Harry gently on the arm. "Oh, pooh. You're no fun."

By now Molly has realized those two are making sport out of her, and that she is hopelessly outclassed. She sighs and turns to Harry. "That's fine, Harry. Can I have him? I guess I should get to know my eldest grandson."

Harry stretches and gives Molly a kiss in the cheek, much to her surprise. She doesn't recall Harry ever being spontaneously affectionate with her. Harry transfers Teddy to Molly's arms, and the baby's hair turns carrot orange. "Oh, boy."

Luna darts in and gives Teddy a kiss in the cheek. "He likes you."

Molly preens. "Well, he'd better..." She tickles Teddy a bit and turns to them. "Ron and Ginny are upstairs. Why don't you two head up, while I entertain this young gent?"

Harry takes a little box out of his bag and sets it down on a shady corner. He touches it with a finger and the box opens, unfolds and expands into a nice looking crib. "I fed him and changed him right before we came. He should be good for a few hours, but you might want to set him down for a nap in a little while." He tenderly kisses the baby's cheek and whispers. "Behave for gramma Molly, hm?" Molly nods, floored by fatherly Harry. She can't avoid thinking about how her boys are going to do as fathers. And they had such a wonderful example.

As they climb the stairs, Luna comments. "I think you broke her."

"Why?"

"You looked like such a great father..."

"I am his father. We'll see about great."

Luna giggles. "Sure." She looks at the ceiling. "Women find a handsome man with a baby hard to resist."

Harry frowns. "I'll try to remember that."

"Even those of us who have no interest in penises."

Harry laughs. "You're using some odd meaning for the word "resist"."

Luna smirks at him. "I would never resist you, Harry Potter."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm just curious about what precisely you have in mind."

"Some polyjuice, a bit of Ginevra's hair, a large bathtub..."

Harry stops and looks at her. It's never dull with Luna. "Now, that's pretty kinky, moonbean."

"Intrigued?"

Harry tries to imagine himself with Ginny's body, a naked Luna and a bathtub. It's a stretch, but... "Yeah, I guess."

Luna giggles. "A little while ago, you'd get very flustered with this suggestion."

"A little while ago, I was dead."

"Now, it's all about living."

"I just don't want things to get weird."

"Weirder than you wearing a Ginevra suit?"

"Right. Forget I said anything."

A cough from upstairs finally distracts them from one another. They look up, and a pair of redheads are staring at them. Ron looks flabbergasted, and Ginny has a little smirk.

Ron breaks the silence. "A Ginevra suit?"

Harry looks at Ron with a little smile. "I was talking to Luna."

Ginny rolls up a hair and pulls it out, giving it to Luna. "I have no objection, if I can see a memory afterwards."

Ron's face turns red. "Ginny! You... You..."

Harry and Luna laugh, "I just offered them a hair." She points at Luna and Harry's laughing forms. "They are the ones doing the dirty, you prat."

"But you want to see!"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Yes, Ronald. Do you want to see it too?"

It takes a moment for Luna's words to percolate, and Ron jumps in place, horrified. "Hey! Stop it! It's not funny!"

Luna and Ginny begin giggling. Ron stares darts at the two girls. Still giggling, Ginny gives Harry a hug. "That was terrible."

"Yet fun." Luna adds.

Ginny grabs Luna by the hand, and moves towards her room. "Let's catch up."

The girls disappear behind Ginny's door, and Harry looks at Ron, who's still trying to process what had happened, specially his sister's behavior. Finally he turns to Harry. "Why would you want to do that?"

"What exactly?"

"Polyjuice as a girl."

Harry stares at Ron. He always knew his friend was a little straightlaced, but this is a bit much. "Seriously, Ron?"

"Yeah! I don't get it."

Harry sighs. "It's magic, Ron. Magic allows me to experience life as a pretty girl for an hour, and enjoy some fun with another pretty girl. It hadn't occurred to me, but that's the fun of going around with Luna. It can't be that hard to understand."

Ron grimaces. "But it's Ginny!"

"She's not my sister." Granted, him doing it as Ginny would be a little creepy. "I've even snogged her a few times, remember?"

"It's just unnatural!"

Harry needs a little occlumency not to laugh. "And you call yourself a wizard."

"Look, if you and Loony want to do this stuff, it's your business. I don't want to know, and I'm sure mom doesn't either."

He lets a little anger show. "That's fine. Just don't call her that."


End file.
